


Henrietta Potter (Book 1) || D.M.

by GrumpyCat84



Series: Henrietta Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Complete, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Gryffindor/Slytherin Inter-House Relationships, Hogwarts, Humor, POV Draco Malfoy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 05:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 53
Words: 64,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29604852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyCat84/pseuds/GrumpyCat84
Summary: What if Harry Potter had been born a girl? Follow Henrietta Potter as she discovers there is a lot more to her than just the girl who lives under the stairs.(Draco Malfoy X Female Harry Potter)***Book 1 of the Henrietta Potter series***!!!CONTAINS SWEARING AND MATURE SCENES!!!
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Henrietta Potter [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175039
Comments: 67
Kudos: 164





	1. The Girl Who Lived

"Up! Get up! Now!"

I woke with a start. My aunt’s shrill voice making the first noise of the day.

“Up!” She screeched again, rapping hard on the door. “Get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don’t you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy’s birthday.”

I groaned as I searched around for my glasses. A spider scuttled over my hand in fright.

“It’s okay, little one,” I whispered. “There’s enough room in here for the both of us.”

Barely.

I was used to spiders - living in the cupboard under the stairs, there were plenty here. I liked to think of them as my friends. I didn’t have any real friends.

I didn’t have any parents either. All I had was my aunt and uncle who seemed to despise me. And my cousin, Dudley, took their cue in hating me. It was almost like they were angry at my parents for dying. I wished so much that I could remember them. I would often close my eyes tight and try with all my might to conjure up a memory - _any_ memory. But there was nothing. Apparently, they died in a car crash when I was only one year old. Too young to remember ever being loved.

I got dressed in Dudley’s old clothes which were ridiculously too big for me. His large frame was no match to my painfully skinny one.

Making my way down the hall to the kitchen where Aunt Petunia was making a cooked breakfast, I caught a waft of bacon, the smell making my mouth water in hunger, although I did not dare hope that I would be allowed any.

My aunt stepped away from the frying pan pointedly, and I gingerly took over, prodding the bacon, trying not to drool all over it. My eyes roamed over to the large pile of presents that were laid out on the kitchen table for my fat, greedy cousin. He would undoubtedly be ungrateful about every single one.

And I was right.

“Thirty-six. That’s two less than last year.”

I discreetly rolled my eyes as my aunt and uncle tried to soothe their darling Duddikins.

As it turned out, I was to get to go to the zoo with them. A tiny thrill went through me. I had never been to a zoo before. I had never really been _anywhere_ before.

And the trip was actually going well. That was until the end when it transpired that I could talk to snakes. Uncle Vernon was _livid,_ as though it was my fault I had this awesome skill _,_ and I was locked up in the cupboard for a week for that.

And then the letter arrived.

_Miss H. Potter, The Cupboard under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey_

I fingered it curiously, wondering who on earth would write to me, when Uncle Vernon’s fat hand cruelly snatched it away.

His reaction that followed was completely over the top.

He was frightened. Of what, I couldn’t tell. Even Dudley shared my confusion in his behaviour. And _more_ letters arrived, just like the first one. My uncle was determined I would not get hold of any, though. He even went as far as nailing wood to the letterbox.

I hungered for that letter. I was desperate to know who was trying to write to me. But no matter how much I screamed and yelled at my uncle, he refused to let me anywhere near it.

Then, on Sunday, as Uncle Vernon sat smugly in his armchair (there was no post on Sundays, you see), a single letter came flying out of the fireplace. I jumped up trying to get at it, but Uncle Vernon was quicker, which was surprising given his rather large measurements. And then, to my delight, thirty or forty more came flying out. That was when Uncle Vernon seized me around the waist and threw me out of the living room and into the car as I tried kicking and biting in protest.

We all went, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley, and me. We drove for hours and hours until we eventually ended up in a boat and then, finally, inside a little shack on a rock.

“Daddy’s gone mad, hasn’t he?” Dudley sobbed to his mother.

For once, I agreed with him.

As I curled up on the freezing, dusty floor that night, trying hopelessly to get some sleep, I realised it was my eleventh birthday at midnight. Only five minutes to go. It was hard to get excited about it when I knew it would just be ignored just like every other birthday.

As I watched the hands on my watch reach twelve o’clock, I was startled by a loud crash at the door.

I watched in astonishment as a huge hairy man entered. I started shaking in fear, wondering what this giant wanted.

“Couldn’t make us a cup o’ tea, could yeh? It’s not been an easy journey...”

His voice, though gruff, was very friendly. I felt momentarily confused, not understanding why he wasn’t trying to eat me.

Instead, the giant strode over to me and sat heavily down on the floor.

“An’ here’s Henrietta!”

I just stared at him, open mouthed, as my aunt, uncle and cousin cowered in the corner.

“Las’ time I saw you, you was only a baby. Yeh look a lot like yer dad, but yeh’ve got yer mum’s eyes.”

My heart raced at the mention of my parents. _This giant knew them_.

“Who are you?” I barely whispered.

“Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. Yeh’ll know all about Hogwarts, o’course.”

“Er - no,” I replied, wondering what on earth this Hagrid person was going on about.

“WHAT?” Hagrid bellowed, turning furiously towards Uncle Vernon. “Do you mean ter tell me, that this girl - this girl! - knows nothin’ abou’ - about ANYTHING?”

Bit rude. I happened to know a lot of things.

Uncle Vernon just looked back at him in fear, his whole body shaking.

Hagrid turned back to me shaking his head sadly.

“Unbelievable,” He tutted. “I can’t believe they didn’t tell you about your parent’s world, _your_ world.”

“My _world_?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

Hagrid leant forward, looking me straight in the eye.

“You’re a witch, Henrietta.”

Well, I’ll be damned.

*****


	2. The Boy With The Pale Pointed Face

So that was how it started.

It turned out my parents had been a wizard and a witch. It turned out _I_ was a _witch_.

Hagrid explained to me that they were killed by an evil wizard called Lord Voldemort. _Not_ killed in a car crash like my aunt and uncle had told me.

Apparently, this Voldemort had also tried to kill me, which explained the funny lightning bolt shaped scar on my forehead.

And after discovering all of that, I was ecstatic to find out that not only I was rich, but I was to attend a wizarding school called Hogwarts where I would learn about magic.

Get in.

Hagrid took me to a place called Diagon Alley in London to purchase all the things I would need for my new school.

He steered me to a shop called ′ _Madam_ _Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions’_ to go and get my school robes, whilst abandoning me to go and have a drink in the pub.

Nervously, I entered the shop on my own and came face to face immediately with a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

“Hogwarts, dear?” she spoke kindly. “Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

I looked to the back of the shop where a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.

Madam Malkin stood me on a stool next to his, slipping a long robe over my head as she began pinning it to the right length.

“Hullo,” the boy said, turning to face me. “Hogwarts too?”

“Yes,” I replied, not knowing what else to say.

“My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking for wands,” he said, in a bored, drawling voice. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.”

I was strongly reminded of Dudley.

“Have _you_ got your own broom?” the boy went on, his silver-grey eyes looking questioningly into mine.

“No,” I said, stiffly. I was not liking him one bit.

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No,” I answered, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

" _I_ do - Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in yet?”

“No,” I said, wishing I had another word in my vocabulary right now.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

“Mmm,” I said, thinking what a git this boy sounded.

“I say, look at that man!” the boy said suddenly, nodding towards the front window. I saw Hagrid standing there, grinning at me, and pointing to two large ice-creams to show he could not come in.

“That’s Hagrid,” I said, pleased to know something the boy did not. “He works at Hogwarts.”

“Oh,” said the boy. “I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?”

“He’s the gamekeeper,” I replied. I was liking this boy less and less every second.

“Yes, exactly. I heard he’s a sort of _savage_ \- lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“I think he’s brilliant,” I said coldly.

" _Do_ you?” the boy said, a sneer creeping on his lips. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead.” I said shortly. I did not feel like getting into this matter with this awful boy.

“Oh, sorry.” But he did not sound sorry at all, I noted. “But they were _our_ kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.”

“I really don’t think they should let the other sort in, do you? They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

Before I could answer this vile boy, Madam Malkin interrupted.

“That’s you done, my dear.” And I hopped down from the footstool, not at all sorry for an excuse to stop talking to this boy.

“Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose,” the boy drawled.

Whatever.

*****

And then here I was. At Kings Cross on the first day of September. I could not get my head around it.

I felt a bit daft, standing around with an old-fashioned trunk and a caged bird - Hedwig, my new snowy owl which Hagrid had told me I would somehow need.

I mean, sure. At this point, I just smiled and nodded as I went with the flow. Nothing could be worse than sleeping under the stairs, after all.

The problem was, I could not work out how to get onto platform nine and three quarters. 

And then I saw a family with similar luggage to mine. They were all red haired and bickering jovially to one another.

“Hullo, dear,” the woman said kindly, seeing my befuddled expression. “First time at Hogwarts? Ron’s new, too.”

I smiled shyly at the freckled, lanky boy in front of me. His cheeks turned a shade of pink.

They showed me how to get onto platform nine and three quarters and the next thing I knew, I was on the gleaming scarlet train known as the Hogwarts Express.

“Anyone sitting there?” the boy called Ron asked, as he entered the compartment I had vacated. “Everywhere else is full.”

I shook my head and he sat down. I noticed him staring at my forehead in awe.

“Are you really Henrietta Potter?” he blurted out.

I nodded, feeling my cheeks flush as I tried to smooth my hair over my scar. “I like to be called Etta, though.”

Ron smiled, looking rather abashed.

“Sorry, it’s just, you know, you are quite famous.”

The moments that followed, Ron and I got to know each other well. I flashed my cash and bought us a trolley full of sweets as we talked about what life at Hogwarts might bring us. I was so chuffed to make a friend. A _real_ friend.

At one point, during our long journey, we were visited by a bushy haired girl and a round faced boy looking for a lost toad. Both Ron and I giggled at the bushy haired witch’s eagerness to know everything.

A bit later in our journey, the compartment door reopened, and three boys entered. I instantly recognised the middle one as the pale boy from Madam Malkin’s robe shop. He was looking at me with an interest he had not shown back in Diagon Alley.

“Is it true?” he said. “They’re saying all down the train that Henrietta Potter’s in this compartment. So, it is you, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I replied, looking at the other boys. Both were thickset and looked extremely mean. They almost looked like bodyguards to the mean pale boy.

“Oh, this is Crabbe, and this is Goyle,” the pale boy said carelessly. “And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.”

Both Ron and I sniggered.

“Think my name’s funny, do you?” Draco spat, glaring at Ron. “No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasley’s have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford.”

His cold, grey eyes turned to me.

“You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help there.”

And then, he held out a hand towards me. I just looked at it, trying to suppress an amused smirk that had begun to tug at my lips.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” I replied coolly, cocking an eyebrow. Did he seriously think I would want to shake hands with a bully like him?

I noticed a pink tinge appear in Draco’s cheeks as I left him hanging.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it’ll rub off on you.”

Ron and I both stood up at once. Ron was shaking in anger, his face as red as his hair.

“Say that again,” he said.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Draco sneered.

“Unless you get out now,” I said, a lot more bravely than I felt since I did not fancy my chances much with Crabbe and Goyle.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we boys? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.”

Our eyes all swivelled over to the pile of sweets which were scattered all over the seats. Goyle reached towards the Chocolate Frogs next to Ron and then let out a terrible yell.

Ron’s rat, Scabbers, was hanging off his finger. I could not help but giggle.

The three of them quickly disappeared after that.

“What a git!” I laughed incredulously. “Who does he think he is, anyway?”

“I’ve heard of his family,” Ron said darkly. “They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they’d been bewitched. My dad doesn’t believe it. He says Malfoy’s father didn’t need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side.”

A shiver went down my spine at the mention of my parent's murderer. I looked to where Draco had been standing and hatred ebbed through me. I never believed I could meet a boy I loathed more than Dudley.

But that was before I met Draco Malfoy.

*****


	3. Flying Lessons

Life at Hogwarts was amazing.

If only for one thing.

Ever since I had spurned Draco Malfoy’s offer of friendship, he had turned extremely nasty towards me.

I had to endure his constant jibes and sneers which the Slytherin’s loved to join in with. I had somehow become his favourite sport. 

It did not help that I had to share Potions class with him. The Potions Master, Professor Snape, was head of Slytherin and took an instant dislike to me upon first sight.

The feeling was mutual.

The greasy haired, hooked nosed man made my skin crawl. The first time he looked at me, I felt a slight twinge where my scar lay on my forehead. It freaked me out. And he clearly favoured the Slytherins. Much to Draco Malfoy’s glee, he was constantly unfairly deducting points from Gryffindor.

And then, just as I got excited about learning to fly a broom, I found out that we were doing flying lessons with the Slytherins. Just my bloody luck.

“Typical,” I muttered. “Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy.”

“You don’t know you’ll make a fool of yourself,” Ron said reassuringly. “Anyway, I know Malfoy’s always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that’s all talk.”

But I was gleeful when Madam Hooch, our flying instructor, told Draco Malfoy that he had been gripping his broom wrong for years. I could not help but snigger loudly which did not go unnoticed by him, and I was met with his usual piercing sneer.

Neville Longbottom, predictably, did not make a good start. I gasped in horror as he instantly fell from his broom and appeared to break his wrist. Madam Hooch took him straight to the hospital wing, leaving the rest of us under strict orders to stay still.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

Anger tore through me as Draco Malfoy burst into laughter with the other Slytherins.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” I snapped. He ceased his laughter to throw me a nasty sneer, silver grey eyes glinting right into me.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” said Pansy Parkinson, a pug faced Slytherin girl. “Never thought _you’d_ like fat little cry babies, Potter.”

“Look!” Draco said, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. I noticed it was the Remembrall that Neville’s Gran had sent him in the post that morning.

“Give that here, Malfoy,” I said quietly. I was very aware of everyone’s eyes on me.

Draco smirked nastily.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to collect - how about - up a tree?”

“Give it _here_!” I yelled, my fury taking over. But the git had leapt on to his broomstick and taken off.

“Come and get it, Potter!” he snarled down at me from the tops of the trees.

Without thinking, I grabbed my broom.

" _No_!” Hermione shouted to me. “Madam Hooch told us not to move - you’ll get us all into trouble.”

But I ignored her. My thoughts were only on Draco Malfoy and getting to the Remembrall.

I mounted my broom and kicked off. I was flying! It came so naturally easy to me. I shook my head as my hair whipped around my face, determined to get to Draco.

I pointed my broom in the direction to where he hovered and I found myself zooming straight to him, a look of surprise crossed his face.

 _He didn’t think I could fly_. I drew up sharply in front of him, his face stunned.

“Give it here,” I sneered at him, “before I knock you off that broom!”

“Oh yeah?” he sneered back, but I was gleeful to observe a look of worry flickering over his features.

And then I went for him.

Draco Malfoy would never forgive me for what followed.

Not only did I nearly tackle him off his broom in front of his cronies, but I also caught the Remembrall as he lobbed it hard into the air. And then, to top it off, Professor McGonagall, having witnessed this, made me a Seeker for the Gryffindor team.

To say Draco Malfoy was livid was an understatement.

“You think you’re so special, _Potter_!” He spat at me one night as he rounded on me leaving the Great Hall after dinner.

“Oh, just shut it, Malfoy,” I snarled. “As if I’d ever be scared of _you.”_

I gasped as he brought his hands up to my shoulders, grabbing them painfully and shoving me fiercely against the wall.

“Don’t fuck with me, Potter,” he hissed, bringing his face close to mine. I flinched as I felt his hot breath tickle my skin. “I don’t care if you’re a girl, I’ll happily give you what’s coming to you.”

With all my might I lifted my knee and thrust it where I knew it would hurt. Draco’s pale face went puce as he staggered backward, his hands clutching at his precious jewels.

“You _dare_ touch me again,” I snarled. “And I’ll fucking kill you.”

I stalked away, my blood boiling with hatred.


	4. First Year Dramas

I loved Quidditch. I actually loved it with a passion. Professor McGonagall had kindly bought me a Nimbus Two Thousand and it was now my pride and joy.

My first Quidditch match was against Slytherin. My determination to have one up on Draco spurred me on for a win. Despite my broomstick malfunctioning at one point, I managed to catch the Snitch in my mouth.

Beating Draco Malfoy was the best feeling in the world.

I stayed at Hogwarts for my first Christmas there. I did not care; in fact, I was overjoyed that I did not have to go back to my horrible family.

“I do feel so sorry,” Draco had said loudly in Potions class before Christmas, “for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they’re not wanted at home.”

He looked over to me as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. I acted as if I had not heard. Draco had been ultra unpleasant since I beat Slytherin at Quidditch.

I dropped my ladle, making as if to get more ingredients from the supply cupboard. I made sure to walk right past Draco. I gave him my best smile as I threw a handful of black beetle eyes into his cauldron. He stood, his mouth hanging open incredulously. I wriggled my fingers gleefully at him and walked on.

Moments later, his potion bubbled over, coating the floor around him in a sticky bogey coloured slime. A furious Snape had made a spluttering Draco, Crabbe and Goyle stay after class to clean it up.

Best. Day. Ever.

Ron stayed behind for Christmas also, which was the best news. We practically had the castle to ourselves and so decided to camp out in the common room together to make it more fun.

On Christmas morning, I was delighted to get actual presents. Ron and I excitedly tore them all open, leaving a large mountain of wrapping paper in our wake.

“What’s this?” I asked curiously, having unwrapped a large sort of cloak. I wrapped it around my shoulders causing Ron to gasp.

“It’s an Invisibility Cloak! Look!”

And, sure enough, as I looked down, I saw that my body had vanished.

A note had told me that it had belonged to my father. _My father_. It was strange having something of his.

I used the Cloak to creep around the castle after dark. One evening I came across a room which held nothing but a mirror. When I looked into it I at first saw just my reflection; my long black hair falling past my shoulders, green eyes behind my glasses. And then something strange happened - people appeared who were not in the room. A man and a woman.

The woman was very pretty with dark red hair and green eyes - just like mine. And the man had black hair and wore glasses, looking oddly like me. _These were my parents_.

I touched the mirror, as if I could touch them. A noticed a single tear falling from my mother's eye, and when I stepped back to touch my own cheek, I realised it too was wet.

I could not leave that mirror alone. For the next few weeks, I would sit for hours in front of it, just looking at my parents. Professor Dumbledore eventually caught me and told me that the mirror was to be removed.

And then there was the incident in the Forbidden Forest. It all started with Hagrid harbouring an illegal dragon. We tried to help him by arranging for Norbert to be taken quietly away, but Draco flipping Malfoy had seen us. He wasted no time in snitching - luckily, we got Norbert away in time - but it meant that Hermione, Ron, and I had landed a detention. 

But the joke was on Draco because he landed one too.

We were to go into the Forbidden Forest with Hagrid. He wanted us to find a dead unicorn by following its blood. This was not cool. And apparently Draco agreed with me.

“You wait till my father hears about this. This is servants’ stuff.”

Hagrid had split us into two groups, and I was stuck with Draco much to both of our disgust.

“If I didn’t know better, Malfoy, I’d say you were scared.” I sneered, as we followed the path winding through the ever-thickening wood.

“Scared, Potter?” He jumped as an owl hooted. I sniggered. “Did you hear that? Come on.”

We followed the blood deeper into the forest, walking for what seemed like ages. Finally, I spotted a clearing ahead where something bright white was gleaming on the ground. A dead unicorn.

“Look-” I murmured, holding out my arm to stop Draco.

A hooded figure came crawling across the ground towards the unicorn. Both Draco and I stood frozen. We watched as the cloaked figure started to drink the unicorn’s blood.

Typically, Draco screamed and bolted. The hooded figure lifted its head and looked directly at me where I remained cool, calm, and awesome.

Even when my scar exploded with pain and I collapsed to the ground, I still knew I was going to be just fine. As it was, I was picked up by a centaur.

And that was the _least_ weird thing that happened to me in the first year.

After discovering a secret room which homed a three headed dog guarding a trapdoor, Ron, Hermione, and I decided to investigate, even though it meant breaking about one hundred and fifty school rules.

With little to no evidence, except for a hunch, we deduced that Snape was after the Philosophers Stone which we knew to be hidden through that trapdoor.

So, we went on quite the adventure. We got trapped in a plant called Devils Snare, and Ron nearly died in a chess game.

It still beat being locked up in a cupboard.

And then, once I did my thing with Voldemort, it was home time. My first year completed. 

As the scarlet train took us back down to London, I could not help but wonder if my cousin had gotten any fatter.


	5. Malfoy Encounters

I was pissed off.

All bloody summer I had heard nothing from Ron or Hermione. I thought we had built really great friendships over the past year, but I guess that was just me being delusional.

It did not help being stuck in this vile household. Although I had at least been upgraded from the cupboard under the stairs to Dudley’s second bedroom. He fumed about that one.

My twelfth birthday was pretty shit. Uncle Vernon had business guests downstairs for dinner and I was meant to be up in my room, making no sound and pretending I did not exist.

The problem was, I had an unexpected visitor sat on my bed. A weird, ugly creature.

“What are you?” I asked, struggling to hide my disgust.

“Dobby. Dobby the house-elf, and I’m here to tell Henrietta Potter that she must not go back to Hogwarts. If Henrietta Potter goes back to Hogwarts, she will be in mortal danger.”

Great. A drama queen in my bedroom was all I needed.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” I sighed, rubbing my fingers tiredly against my temple. “But this is not a good time.”

But Dobby would not quit. He even went as far as going downstairs and throwing Aunt Petunia’s vulgar looking dessert over one of the guest's head.

I was locked in my room after that, and bars were even put up on my bedroom window, just to really get that prison vibe going on.

I really was having a shit summer.

*****

But then it got better!

Ron, Fred, and George broke me out. They had some crazy flying car that their dad had enchanted. They took me back to their home, The Burrow, which was amazing.

Molly and Arthur, Ron’s parents, were exactly the kind of parents I wish I had for myself. They made me feel so welcome, safe, and secure.

They set me up a bed in Ginny’s room as they did not think it appropriate for me to share with Ron. I was a bit disappointed - Ron and I would have had a giggle. But Ginny was okay, I guess. A bit on the quiet side. She confessed to me that she was really nervous about starting Hogwarts so I reassured her that I would look out for her. This made her beam so much.

Being a hero was like second nature to me.

I had such a fantastic time at The Burrow. Ron showed me all the magical delights of living in a wizarding household, including being able to practice Quidditch in the paddock. I never wanted to go back to the Dursley’s ever again.

About a week in, Mrs Weasley offered me a flowerpot.

“I'm sorry," I apologised kindly, "but gardening is not really my thing."

“She’s never travelled by Floo powder,” Ron said suddenly. “Sorry, Etta, I forgot.”

“She’ll be all right,” Fred said, stepping up to the fireplace. “Etta, watch us first.”

And, taking a pinch of something from the flowerpot, he threw it into the flames and stepped in.

A scream stuck in my throat. How did he not die?

Well, it turned out it was just another wacky way us wizards like to travel.

And so, I did just that. Just not very well. I landed in a fireplace of a shop that did not look remotely like a place in Diagon Alley. Although that was hard to tell because my flipping glasses smashed when I fell clumsily to the floor.

Luckily, no one was there to witness me being anything less than awesome.

I looked around the dark dank shop and took in all the eerie artefacts. I shrunk away as I came across a withered hand. _Ew_. I decided to get out of there - right that instant.

Except that as I started towards the shop door, I was horrified to see a familiar face approaching from the street.

Draco Malfoy.

I quickly jumped inside a cabinet, not wanting Draco to see me covered in soot and wearing broken glasses. I could not take the humiliation.

I watched through a tiny crack in the cabinet door as a man, who could only be Draco’s father, entered the shop with him. His hair was the same colour, only long. They shared the same pointed face and cold grey eyes. I shuddered at the thought of an adult Draco.

“Touch nothing, Draco.” He had the same drawling voice I recognised in Draco.

“I thought you were going to buy me a present.” _Good God_ , he sounded just like Dudley.

“I said I would buy you a racing broom.”

“What’s the good of that if I’m not in the house team?” Draco whined. I peeked out at his face which looked sulky and bad tempered. “Henrietta Potter got a Nimbus Two Thousand last year. Special permission from Dumbledore so she could play for Gryffindor. She’s not even that good, it’s just because she’s _famous_... famous for having a stupid scar on her forehead...”

That bloody cheeky bastard! I was a flipping awesome Seeker!

“... everyone thinks she’s so _smart_ , wonderful _Potter_ with her _scar_ and her _broomstick_ -”

“You have told me this at least a dozen times already,” his father interrupted him, “and I would remind you that it is not - prudent - to appear less than fond of Henrietta Potter, not when most of our kind regard her as the hero who made the Dark Lord disappear - ah, Mr Borgin.”

Mr Malfoy turned his attention to a man who appeared behind the counter.

Draco looked around, lazily fingering items along the shelves. I was fuming. I wanted to jump out of this cabinet and hex his stupid little arse. How dare he bitch about me like that.

He was edging closer to the cabinet as his father continued discussing selling some of his dark shit to Borgin.

I froze, my heart hammering in my chest as Draco’s hand went out to pull open the cabinet door. I shakily gripped my wand, ready to use it.

“Come, Draco!”

I breathed a sigh of relief as Draco was summoned. He dropped his hand and walked out of the shop after his father.

It had turned out I had ended up in a place called Knockturn Alley. Luckily, Hagrid found me looking rather lost on the street after I escaped that horrid shop.

Back in Diagon Alley, Mr Weasley fixed my glasses for me and we were joined by Hermione. I told her and Ron about Draco being in Knockturn Alley with his father.

“Well, that’s hardly a surprise,” Ron muttered. “Dad always said Lucius Malfoy was a dodgy sort.”

We all went to Flourish and Blotts to pick up our schoolbooks. Mrs Weasley and Hermione went gaga over a wizard called Gilderoy Lockhart who was doing a signing of his books.

To my horror - the moment he saw me, he grabbed me, pulling me up to his side.

“Nice big smile, Henrietta,” he said as a photographer took our photo. “Together, you and I are worth the front page.”

It turned out this moron was going to be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Damn, I was starting to regret murdering the last one.

“Bet you loved that, didn’t you, Potter?” said a voice I had no trouble recognising. I groaned inwardly as Draco Malfoy’s sneering face appeared before me.

" _Famous_ Henrietta Potter,” He spat. “Can’t even go into a _bookshop_ without making the front page.”

Before I could tell Draco to do one, Ginny stepped between us glaring right at him. “Leave her alone!”

“Look, Potter, you’ve got yourself a _girlfriend!_ " Draco drawled gleefully.

A hand clamped down on Draco’s shoulder making him flinch slightly as he looked up to his father.

“Silence, Draco! Ah... Miss Potter. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

I recoiled as he reached out to push my hair aside, revealing my scar. Pervert.

“Forgive me, Miss Potter. But your scar is legend. As, of course, is the wizard that gave it to you.”

“He was a murderer.” I spat, feeling revolted by this man. 

Didn't he realise that killing people was not cool except for when _I_ did it?

“Yes, it was a pity about your parents.”

I stood, mouth agape, as he waffled on about Voldemort in front of me. This guy was a real git. I could see where Draco got it from now.

In the end, Mr Weasley came and rescued us from this awkward situation by smacking his fist into the side of Lucius's pretty face.

Grabbing my big cauldron of freebies, I went to step past Draco, his grey eyes glinting maliciously into mine.

“See you at school, Potter.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it, Malfoy.”

I tell no lies.


	6. Second Year Spats

Ron and I missed the train!

Well, it wasn’t _our_ fault. The barrier on the platform had somehow closed and we could not get through.

So, we did the only sensible thing our twelve-year-old selves could think of.

We stole Ron's dad's car and flew it to school.

It was actually quite fun, right up until the end that is, when we were nearly crushed to death by the Whomping Willow.

And _we_ got in trouble for hurting _it_. I mean - how unfair is that?!

A first year had taken a particular strange liking to me. Colin Creevey. He carried a camera around with him and begged me to take a picture with him. He even asked if I could sign it.

" _Signed photos_? You’re giving out _signed photos_ , Potter?”

Oh great. Draco Malfoy had overheard. Typical.

“Everyone queue up!” He continued, roaring to the crowd around us. “Henrietta Potter’s giving out signed photos!”

“No, I’m not,” I said angrily, clenching my fists. “Shut up, Malfoy.”

“You’re just jealous,” Colin piped up, to my horror.

" _Jealous_?” Draco said, who did not need to shout anymore; half the courtyard was listening in. “Of what? I don’t want a foul scar right across my head, thanks. I don’t think getting your head cut open makes you that special, myself.”

“Eat slugs, Malfoy.” Ron said angrily. Crabbe, who stood next to Draco like a bodyguard, started rubbing his conker-like knuckles in a menacing way.

“Weasley would like a signed photo, Potter,” Draco smirked. “It’d be worth more than his family’s whole house.”

Both Ron and I simultaneously lunged towards him, brandishing our wands, but Crabbe and Goyle stepped out in front of him, protecting the little coward.

And then there was Professor Lockhart. He was the absolute worst. He was an egotistical, self-obsessed narcissistic twat. It was laughable that Professor Dumbledore ever appointed him as a teacher. In our first lesson he made us do a quiz based on _himself_. I mean, who does that? Hermione seemed to love him though, even after he made us three clear up a room full of crazy pixies.

I also learnt a new word this year, thanks to Draco Malfoy. I would also soon discover it was one of his favourites too.

I had been woken up stupidly early by Oliver Wood one morning to get in a Quidditch training session. I grumpily made my way down to the pitch and yawned all the way through Oliver’s boring lectures. By the time Ron and Hermione had come down to watch, after breakfast, we _still_ had not got on our brooms.

And then, finally as we were about to mount them, the bloody Slytherin team came marching onto the pitch.

“Flint!” Oliver bellowed at the Slytherin captain. “This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now! I booked it!”

“Ah,” Marcus Flint said grinning, “but I’ve got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape. _I, Professor Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch pitch, owing the need to train their new Seeker_.”

I was about to suggest to Oliver that we duck out and call it quits seeing as we had already been at it for three hours, when out from behind the six large Slytherins, stepped a seventh, smaller boy, smirking all over his pale, pointed face. 

It was Draco bloody Malfoy.

“Oh, this is just bloody fantastic!” I could not help but yell out loud, rounding on him. ” _You?! A Seeker?!_ Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke?!”

“Oh, you’d better believe it, Potter,” he drawled, his grey eyes glinting. “And just look what my father bought the whole team.”

I looked on in horror as they all held out brand new, highly polished broomsticks.

“What’s happening?” Asked Ron as he and Hermione joined us from the stands. “Why aren’t you playing? And what’s _he_ doing here?”

“I’m the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley,” Draco said smugly. “Everyone’s just been admiring the brooms my father’s bought our team.”

Ron gaped, open-mouthed, at the seven superb broomsticks in front of him.

“Good, aren’t they?” Draco bragged. “But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives, I expect a museum would bid for them.”

The Slytherin team howled with laughter as though Draco had said something amusing.

“At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to _buy_ their way in,” Hermione piped up sharply. ” _They_ got in on pure talent.”

I sniggered as the smug look on Draco’s face instantly fell.

“No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood,” he spat.

Well. I had no idea what that meant but it caused such an uproar to everyone except myself and Hermione. And then Ron tried to hex Draco, but it backfired because of his broken wand and he ended up puking up slugs. Gross.

It turned out that Mudblood was the worst thing you could call a Muggle-born witch or wizard. It did not surprise me that Draco knew this word.

Draco Malfoy being a Seeker meant I had the joy of playing against him at our first Quidditch match of the season - Gryffindor against Slytherin.

“All right there, Scarhead?” Draco yelled as we both hovered above the game on our broomsticks, positioning ourselves to look for the Snitch.

I ignored him, trying to avoid a Bludger which kept aiming for me. Fred and George had to hover round me, making sure to hit the Bludger at Draco whenever they could.

This was not normal, the Bludger had somehow gone rogue.

“Training for the ballet, Potter?” Draco yelled gleefully as I was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in mid-air to dodge the Bludger. 

"If I was then I'd still be better at it than you!" I hollered back at him, glaring at him in hatred.

And then I saw it - _the Golden Snitch_! It was hovering inches above Draco’s left ear. The stupid git did not even see it through his laughter.

Before I went for it, the Bludger came back and smacked me hard in the arm, cracking my bone beneath. Despite being blinded with tears of pain, I continued to soar towards Draco, a look of surprise on his face as I snatched the Snitch from under his pointed nose.

That stupid Lockhart ruined my moment of glory though, by vanishing the bones in my arm. He really was a grade A idiot. I spent a whole night in the hospital wing growing the bones back.

Still, it had been worth it to see Draco Malfoy cry.


	7. Stranger Things

Strange things started happening around the castle.

I was hearing voices that no one else seemed to hear; Filch’s petrified cat was found hanging next to a message about the Chamber of Secrets being opened or some shit; and Draco’s hair was somehow looking sleeker and shinier.

It was all rather baffling.

And then there was the incident in Duelling Club.

Lockhart told us to get into pairs. I automatically moved towards Hermione.

“I don’t think so,” Snape said, smiling coldly. “Mr Malfoy come over here. Let’s see what you make of the famous Henrietta Potter.”

I groaned as Draco strutted over, smirking.

“Face your partners!” Lockhart called, “and bow!”

I refused point blank to bow to Draco. We stood still, not taking our eyes off each other.

“Wands at the ready!” Lockhart shouted. “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponent - only to disarm them - we don’t want any accidents. One... two... three...”

I swung my wand over my shoulder, but the cheating bastard had already started on ‘two’: his spell hit me so hard I felt as though I had been hit over the head with a saucepan. I stumbled, but managed to right myself, and wasting no more time, pointed my wand straight at Draco and shouted, ” _Rictusempra_!”

A jet of silver light hit Draco in the stomach, and he doubled up, wheezing.

“I said disarm only!” Lockhart shouted in alarm, as Draco sank to his knees; I had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing. I grinned gleefully at my work, but Draco was quick and, gasping for breath, pointed his wand at my knees, choked, ” _Tarantallegra_!” and next second my legs began to jerk around out of my control in a kind of quickstep.

“Stop! Stop!” Lockhart screamed like a moronic drama queen, but Snape took charge.

 _“Finite Incantatem_!” he shouted; my feet stopped dancing, Draco stopped laughing and we were able to look up.

It seemed Draco and I were not the only ones playing dirty tricks on one another.

“Dear, dear,” Lockhart said, looking around at the students all over the floor. “I think I’d better teach you how to block unfriendly spells. Let’s have a volunteer pair.”

“How about Malfoy and Potter?” Snape said with a twisted smile.

Good god, this class was hell.

“Excellent idea!” Lockhart said, gesturing Draco and I into the middle of the Hall as the crowd backed away to give us room.

“Now, Henrietta,” Lockhart said, “when Draco points his wand at you, you do this.”

I stared at him bewilderedly as he gave his wand a complicated wiggle and dropped it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Snape whispering something in Draco’s ear. Draco smirked. I swallowed.

“Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?”

“Scared?” Draco muttered, so that Lockhart could not hear him.

“You wish,” I snarled, narrowing my eyes in what I hoped was an intimidating manner.

Lockhart cuffed me merrily on the shoulder. “Just do what I did, Henrietta!”

“What, drop my wand?”

But he wasn’t listening.

“Three- two- one- go!” He shouted.

I froze as Draco raised his wand quickly and bellowed, ” _Serpensortia_!”

The end of his wand exploded. I watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily on the floor between us and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

“Don’t move, Potter,” Snape said lazily - he was clearly enjoying the sight of me standing motionless, eye to eye with an angry snake. “I’ll get rid of it...”

“Allow me” Lockhart shouted. He brandished his wand at the snake, and it flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack.

It was mightily pissed off and turned its attention towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. Feeling I ought to do something, I yelled stupidly at the snake, “Leave him!” And it seemed to do the job as the snake slumped to the floor.

The reaction was just ridiculous. Draco stared open mouthed at me like an idiot. Everyone else started giving me evils and yelling at me to get away. Ron grabbed my arm, pulling me hurriedly out of the Hall, Hermione on our tail. It turned out I was a Parselmouth and that happened to not be a good thing due to Voldemort being one.

Pfft. They were all acting like complete babies, looking at me as though I were about to kill them all in their sleep or something.

Oddly enough, the only person who did not treat me any differently - other than my two besties, of course - was Draco Malfoy.

So, we came to the logical conclusion that this must have meant that he was _definitely_ the Heir of Slytherin.

Hermione had the ingenious idea of making up some Polyjuice potion so that we could interrogate Draco about it. He had seemed rather gleeful at the mention of the Chamber after all.

The whole thing turned out to be a colossal waste of our time. Hermione would not even come out of the cubical as she had accidentally turned herself into a cat. The daft mare.

And then I found this totally awesome diary belonging to this really hot dude who kept showing me his memories.

Was deeply pissed off when I later found out that I had not been the only girl he had been exchanging ink with that year.

It made it easier to stab his soul though, especially when it turned out he was actually that murdering scumbag who blew up my parents.

Oh well.

Boy, was I glad when that year finished. I just prayed the next one would be less eventful.


	8. It's Killed Meh

So, it turned out some maniac called Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban, the wizarding prison, and was trying to kill me.

I learnt this before I even set foot on the Hogwarts Express to start my third year.

After I blew up my Aunt Marge one evening at the Dursley’s, I ran away and ended up spending the rest of the summer in Diagon Alley. That was fun, especially when Ron and Hermione joined me.

On the journey to Hogwarts, some creep in a black cloak boarded the train and popped his head inside our compartment.

“You _fainted_ , Potter? You actually _fainted_?”

I rolled my eyes as a drawling, delighted voice sounded in my ear upon arriving at the castle.

He stood in front of me, blocking my way up the stone steps. His face was gleeful, and his pale eyes glinted maliciously.

“Shove off, Malfoy,” I gritted through my teeth, not in the mood for a spat. I tried to push past him, but his hands shot out and grabbed my wrists tightly, restraining me.

“Oh, not until I hear the delightful details of what a scaredy cat you were.” He hissed in my ear.

“Is there a problem?”

Draco quickly released my wrists and I whirled round to see Professor Lupin standing there.

“Oh, no - er - _Professor.”_ Draco smirked, taking in Lupin’s patched robes and dilapidated suitcase.

I glared at Draco’s retreating back as he walked up the steps, disappearing into the castle.

As soon as I entered the Great Hall for breakfast the next morning, I was greeted by the sight of Draco doing a ridiculous impression of a swooning fit, making the Slytherins roar with laughter.

“Hey, Potter!” shrieked Pansy Parkinson. “Potter! The Dementors are coming, Potter! _Wooooooooo_!”

I glared as Draco pretended to faint again.

“That little git,” George said calmly as I dropped heavily into a seat at the Gryffindor table next to him. “He wasn’t so cocky last night when the Dementors were down our end of the train. Came running into our compartment, didn’t he, Fred?”

“Nearly wet himself,” Fred said, throwing a contemptuous glance at Draco.

I was mightily cheered by this.

That cheer did not last long though, as I discovered that we were sharing Hagrid’s Care of Magical Creatures class with the Slytherins.

I joined the first class feeling rather pissed off after enduring a particularly horrible Divination lesson, where the teacher, Professor Trelawney, kept predicting my untimely death.

“Now firs’ thing yeh’ll want to do is open yer books-”

“And exactly how do we do that?” said the cold, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy.

As much as I hated him, he had a point. Hagrid had put a crazily dangerous book on our reading list that tried to eat us.

“Eh?” said Hagrid.

“How do we open our books?” Draco repeated. He took out his copy of _The Monster Book of Monsters,_ which he had bound shut with a length of rope.

“Yeh’ve got ter _stroke_ ’em,” Hagrid said, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Oh, how silly we’ve all been!” Draco sneered. “We should have _stroked_ them! Why didn’t we guess!”

“I... I thought they were funny,” Hagrid said uncertainly.

“Oh, tremendously funny!” Draco spat. “Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” I said quietly.

“God this place is going to the dogs,” Malfoy continued, ignoring me. “Wait until my father hears Dumbledore’s got this oaf teaching classes.”

“Listen, you stupid prat-” I spat, feeling my blood boil with anger.

“Careful, Potter, there’s a Dementor behind you-”

I jumped, looking over my shoulder; instantly cursing myself for believing that idiot, as Draco and Pansy doubled over with laughter.

And then Hagrid brought out the Hippogriff. Apparently, its name was Buckbeak. And guess who was the lucky sod that got to ride it?

That’s right, _me_.

I hated it. It was not like riding a broom. And it did not help that Hagrid kept warning us that they were flipping dangerous creatures if they did not like you.

“Give me a go at that thing. If Potter can do it, it must be easy. You’re not dangerous at all, are you, you great big ugly brute-”

I could not watch as Draco stormed at Buckbeak, pushing me out of the way as he approached it.

Frightened, Buckbeak reared his talons and swiped viciously at him. Draco landed on the ground next to me, crying his eyes out. Blood was seeping through his robes as he clutched his arm.

“It’s killed meh! It’s killed meh!”

Pfft. What a baby, I thought gleefully.

*****

Draco continued to make such a show of his arm. He even had it wrapped in a sling and told anyone who would listen that he nearly lost it.

“I know you’re faking it,” I sneered at him as I passed by his desk one day during a Potions lesson.

“So what,” he sneered back at me. “Like I give a shit what you think, Potter.”

I glanced quickly to see if Snape was watching, and then I leant right into Draco and hissed in his ear, “you’re a despicable human being, Malfoy, and one day you’ll get what’s coming to you.”

Anger flecked in his grey eyes. He grabbed my arm with his good hand and squeezed it tight, making my eyes water.

“And what about Sirius Black?” He hissed back vehemently. “If it were me, I’d have done something before now. I would be out looking for him.”

“What are you talking about, Malfoy?” I gritted.

“Don’t you _know_ , Potter?” He breathed, his hot breath tickling my cheek. “I’d want revenge, I’d hunt them down myself.”

He let go of my arm as Snape called out to the class to finish up their potions. Draco’s grey eyes glinted dangerously into mine as I turned to walk away.

*****

I later found out that Sirius Black was my godfather and he had betrayed my parents resulting in their deaths.

Draco was right about one thing; I wanted revenge.

*****

  



	9. The Godfather

It turned out Professor Lupin was our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

He was awesome, handing out chocolate left right and centre, forcing us to eat it even when we didn't want to.

He also gave me private lessons to help me try to cope with Dementors after I had lost my Nimbus Two Thousand from falling during a Quidditch game when they had invaded the pitch. It was like losing my parents all over again.

On the plus side, I had received a new broom, a Firebolt, which was made Draco's broomstick look like a mouldy old twig. It helped me win the Quidditch final against Slytherin, despite Draco’s best efforts to sabotage it by grabbing hold of my broom when I had dived for the Snitch.

But he underestimated just how awesome I was.

Beating Draco Malfoy was the best feeling ever.

Especially since his theatrics had caused Buckbeak to be sentenced to death.

We were on our way to support Hagrid at the execution when we had the unfortunate luck of bumping into Draco and his cronies.

“Come to see the show?!”

This sick dude actually looked excited about the prospect of witnessing the decapitation of someone's beloved pet. He would have fitted right in during the medieval era.

Luckily, Hermione had it in hand... literally.

“You... foul... loathsome... evil... little cockroach...”

I stood shocked, as Hermione went at him with her wand. The git actually looked frightened. It was the most satisfying thing when she decked him. Ron tried to hold her back, but I applauded her.

I watched on smugly as he ran away in horror.

My only regret being that it had not been me who had gotten their hands on him.

*****

What happened next blew my awesome mind.

Well, not really. End of year dramas was becoming quite the norm for me of late. I was just disappointed that I did not get to see my old pal, Voldemort. I guess he was taking a year off to catch up on his tan.

Basically, after the execution, some dog turned into my godfather, Ron's rat turned into a murdering psychopath, and Lupin started howling at midnight.

And then I thought I saw my father, but it turned out to be me - and I had made a fully fledged Patronus. _Get in_.

After a bit of time traveling, Hermione and I saved not only Buckbeak, but Sirius Black too.

It was a bit annoying because it meant that Sirius was still on the run, and I could not go and live with him like he promised. So, it meant I had to go back to those damned Dursley’s.

Oh, and Professor Trelawney actually made a genuine prediction for once in her pathetic life. She predicted that the Dark Lord would rise again with the help of a servant. That's next years end of school drama lined up for me then.

I howled like a werewolf when Snape snitched on Lupin, resulting in the parents and governors clamouring for his resignation. I don't get why everyone was getting so pressed about it. What's a little dog bite when there's free chocolate involved?

All in all, it was a strange kind of year.

But the strangest part of it all was the fact that I could not stop looking at Draco's hair.

I crossed my fingers that the following year would be less eventful.


	10. Cedric Diggory

Cedric Diggory smiled as he landed in front of me from up a tree.

“Hullo,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

Cedric was an extremely handsome boy of around seventeen. He was captain and Seeker of the Hufflepuff house Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

I knew this already because Cedric beat me in Quidditch last year when I fell from my broom. But he was hot, so I didn’t mind.

“Having a good summer, Henrietta?” Cedric asked, his voice silky soft.

“E-Etta,” I stuttered. “Call me Etta, please.” I smiled warmly, feeling a heat rush to my cheeks.

“Well, Etta,” he smiled, his eyes lingering on me longer than necessary. “I hope you enjoy the game.”

Well, I will now.

*****

“Cedric was so bloody obvious,” Ron scoffed, as we walked among the tents of the Quidditch World Cup camp area.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said innocently, despite my insides squirming with glee.

“Oh, come off it,” Hermione’s eyes gleamed as she glanced at me. “He likes you and you know it.”

I looked down, trying to hide the smile that unwittingly stretched across my face.

*****

My eyes met Draco Malfoy’s as he entered the box with his parents. They glinted maliciously into mine. I felt a frisson of hatred spark through the depths of my stomach.

I tried to ignore him as I concentrated on the World Cup. I did not want _him_ to ruin this once in a lifetime moment for me.

The Quidditch match was amazing. It was more than I could have hoped it to be. Not even the presence of Draco Malfoy could ruin it.

“Enjoy that, did you _Potter_?” He hissed in my ear as I brushed past him on my way out. “Wait until you see what comes next.”

I soon found out what he was talking about.

*****

I stopped, leaning against a tree trying to get my breath back. I was horrified by what I had just witnessed.

“Feeling all right there, Potter?”

I looked up at the white-blond haired boy who was leant against the tree opposite me, his arms folded, looking utterly relaxed.

“Shame you no longer have a mummy and daddy to look after you,” he continued in drawling tones, “I’d be scared if I were you too, Scarface.”

Hatred ripped through me. I marched right up to him, thrusting my face angrily into his.

“And where’re _your_ parents?” I snarled, practically spitting in his face. “Out there wearing masks, are they?”

Draco just smiled back at me. “Well... if they were, I wouldn’t be likely to tell you, would I, Potter?”

“Etta! Thank god!”

I span round to see Hermione appear, red faced and bushy hair flying behind her. Ron closely followed.

" _You_!” Ron spat upon seeing Draco. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Language, Weasley,” Draco said, his pale eyes glittered. “Hadn’t you better be hurrying along now? You wouldn’t like _her_ spotted, would you?”

He nodded at Hermione and at the same moment, there was a loud blast and a flash of green light momentarily lit the trees around us.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione said defiantly.

“Granger, they’re after _Muggles_ ,” he sneered. “D’you want to be showing off your knickers in mid-air? Because if you do, hang around... they’re moving this way, and it would give us all a laugh.”

“Hermione’s a witch, you stupid dumb arse.” I snarled.

“Have it your own way, Potter,” he grinned maliciously at me. “If you think they can’t spot a Mudblood, stay where you are.”

Furious, I went to grab my wand out of my pocket, but spotting this, Draco quick as a flash grabbed my arm, preventing me from doing so.

“I wouldn’t try anything silly, if I were you, Potter.” He hissed in my ear. I caught a waft of peppermint. “Or it may just well be the last thing you do.”

He yanked my arm violently away, making me stumble backwards. He swished past me, his cloak billowing behind him.

“Keep that big bushy head down, Granger,” he called back, before disappearing into the dark.

Dramatic prick.

*****

“Anything from the trolley dears?”

We were hurtling back up north for our fourth year at Hogwarts. Both Ron and I jumped up, lunging for the door at the same time upon hearing the trolley lady clattering up the aisle.

Ron won the tussle and elbowed his way out of the compartment first.

“Hello, Etta,”

I looked up to see Cedric Diggory paying for his trolley treats. I felt my face blush and cursed myself inwardly.

“Hello, Cedric,” I grinned stupidly, feeling awkward. Behind me, Ron tutted as he put in his order to the trolley lady.

“Anything sweet for you dear?” The trolley lady turned to me.

“I, uh - no thanks,” I said, suddenly finding I had no appetite. Cedric was still smiling at me, causing butterflies to take flight in my stomach.

“I’ll see you at school, Etta,” he spoke softly, his smile never leaving his lips.

“Sure,” I smiled, “look forward to it.”

He turned and disappeared back into his compartment. Ron scoffed. “Bloody pretty boy.”

Much later, we were sat in our compartment, reliving the World Cup. Ron was telling Neville that we got to see Viktor Krum right up close, seeing as we were in the Top Box.

“For the first and last time in your life, Weasley.”

I automatically clenched my fists in anger as Draco appeared at the door, flanked by his two overgrown cronies.

“Don’t remember asking you to join us, Malfoy,” I said coolly.

His grey eyes glinted down at me, a smirk playing on his lips.

“So... are you going to enter, Weasley?” He said, turning his attention back to Ron. “Going to try and bring a bit of glory to the family name? There’s money involved as well; you know... you’d be able to afford some decent robes if you won...”

“What are you talking about?” Ron snapped.

" _Are you going to enter_?” Draco repeated. “I suppose _you_ will, Potter? You never miss a chance to show off, do you?”

Ugh, the prick.

“Either explain what you’re on about or go away, Malfoy,” Hermione said testily, over the top of one of her schoolbooks that she had not put down all journey.

A gleeful smile spread across Draco’s pale face. I had the sudden urge to slam the door, wiping it off him. But instead, I tried hard to ignore him.

“Don’t tell me you don’t _know_?” He drawled delightedly. _Ignore him, ignore him._ “You’ve got a father and a brother at the Ministry and you don’t even _know_? My God, _my_ father told me about it ages ago... heard it from Cornelius Fudge. But then, Father’s always associated with the top people at the Ministry... maybe your father’s too junior to know about it, Weasley... yes... they probably don’t talk about important stuff in front of him...”

Laughing once more, Draco beckoned to Crabbe and Goyle, and the three of them disappeared. I angrily threw one of Ron’s Chocolate Frogs at the door in their wake.

It did not make me feel better.


	11. Ferret Face

Good God, Colin Creevey has a brother. I have literally now got two of them following me around, beaming at me like I’m Jesus or something.

That aside, the school year began with an exciting start. We finally found out what Draco was harping on about on the train - Hogwarts is going to host an event called The Triwizard Tournament.

Sadly, it is only for students aged seventeen and over, so it did not look like I would be having much to do with it.

We also had a new teacher called Professor Moody. Everyone calls him Mad-Eye due to his freaky roving eye. He may very well be my most favourite teacher in the world after what he did to Draco.

It had been the evening after our first day of classes. Ron, Hermione, and I were queuing up for dinner when a loud, all too familiar voice rang out behind us.

“Weasley! Hey, Weasley!”

I groaned, turning around to see Draco, Crabbe and Goyle looking thoroughly pleased about something.

“What?” Ron said shortly.

“Your dad’s in the paper, Weasley!” Draco dramatically pulled out a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ with a flourish and spoke very loudly so everyone present could hear. “Listen to this!”

He read the whole article out loud. Mr Weasley had been involved in a tussle with a policeman and the article accused him of being an embarrassment to the Ministry. I could feel Ron dying next to me.

“And there’s a picture, Weasley!” Draco said, flipping the paper over and holding it up. “A picture of your parents outside their house - if you can call it a house! Your mother could do with losing a bit of weight, couldn’t she?”

Ron was shaking with fury besides me. Everyone was now looking.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” I spat. “C’mon, Ron...”

“Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” Draco sneered. “So, tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?”

“You know _your_ mother, Malfoy?” I said, while Hermione and I grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Draco. “That expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Had she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?”

Draco’s pale face had gone slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.”

“Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” I yelled, turning away.

 _BANG_!

The little prick had thrown a curse at me while my back was turned. Luckily, the lousy shot missed me by inches and instead hit the wall next to me.

By the time I could reach for my wand to fight back, there was another loud _BANG_.

“OH NO YOU DON’T LADDIE!”

I span round to see Professor Moody limping over. His wand was out, and he was pointing it at a white ferret shivering on the floor, exactly where Draco had been standing.

The entire Hall grew silent as we all stared in horror at the ferret.

“Did he get you?” Moody growled, looking at me.

“No," I laughed nervously, "the idiot missed.”

The ferret started to run off, but Moody was quick.

“I don’t think so!” he roared, pointing his wand at the ferret again - it flew ten feet up in the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upwards once more.

“I don’t like people who attack when their opponent’s backs turned,” He growled, continuing to bounce the ferret up and down. “Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do...”

I just could not believe what I was witnessing. A tiny part of me actually felt sorry for Draco, but I would never, ever admit that out loud.

Professor McGonagall angrily stepped in and turned Draco back to normal. I had never seen him look more humiliated in my life. His face was pink, and he refused to meet anyone’s eye as he scurried away.

That was a great day.

*****

We had visitors for the Triwizard Tournament. Two other schools were to compete - Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. Ron was ecstatic when it turned out that Viktor Krum was a Durmstrang student.

All the students who wanted to compete in the tournament had to put their name in a thing called the Goblet of Fire.

I was going down to breakfast the morning after our guests arrived, when Cedric Diggory strode up behind me, a big eager grin upon his face.

“I’m putting my name in,” he said excitedly, beaming down at me. 

“That’s great!” I said as butterflies swarmed in my stomach, “I’ll have everything crossed for you.”

I walked the rest of the way with him to breakfast, both of us giggling about Draco the Great Bouncing Ferret.

I wished him luck as he stepped up to the Goblet of Fire. Students cheered and he gave me a wink as he dropped his name in.

My flushed cheeks had not gone unnoticed by my Gryffindor chums.

*****

Oh. My. Shitting. God.

So, it turns out I am going to be a Hogwarts champion in the Triwizard Tournament. Unbelievable.

Looks like my fourth year is not going to be a quiet one after all...


	12. Potter Stinks

Well, my year changed dramatically from the moment the Goblet spat out my name.

First, Ron got in a right sulk with me, which I found really unfair. He was supposed to be my best friend and yet _he_ would not believe me when I told him repeatedly that I had no idea how my name ever got in in the first place. Idiot.

It felt as though the whole school had turned against me. Even Professor Dumbledore got a bit rough with me. And I thought _he_ would have been calm about it.

On the plus side, Cedric Diggory was also a champion and he, at least, seemed okay with me. However, the rest of the Hufflepuffs absolutely loathed me for taking away Cedric’s “glory”.

Hermione was my saviour, though.

“Well of course I knew you hadn’t entered yourself,” she had said. “The look on your face when Dumbledore read out your name! But the question is, who _did_ put it in?”

She encouraged me to write to Sirius to tell him what had been going on, but to be honest I wasn’t keen. He was on the run and I knew he would just worry and come flying back here on Buckbeak. But Hermione bullied me into it anyway.

And then, of course, there was Draco Malfoy. Words cannot even begin to describe how much I hate that boy.

And I had to suffer double Potions with him. These days it was nothing short of torture being shut in a dungeon for an hour and a half with Snape and the Slytherins. They all seemed determined to punish me as much as possible for daring to become school champion.

At the start of one of these dreadful lessons, I turned up to see all the Slytherins waiting outside, each and every one of them wearing a large badge on the front of their robes. I could see, to my dismay, that they all bore the same message; in luminous red letters that burnt brightly in the dimly lit underground passage:

_Support CEDRIC DIGGORY - the REAL Hogwarts Champion!_

“Like them, Potter?” Draco said loudly, beaming smugly in my face. “And this isn’t all they do - look!”

He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green:

_POTTER STINKS_

The Slytherins howled with laughter. Each of them pressed their badges, too, until the message _POTTER STINKS_ was shining brightly all around me. I felt the heat rise to my face and neck.

“Oh, really mature, _Malfoy_ ,” I spat. “I can’t understand where you get your wit from.”

Draco’s grey eyes glinted gleefully at me, before turning to Hermione, who was scowling next to me.

“Want one, Granger?” He said, holding out a badge to her. “I’ve got loads. But don’t touch my hand, now. I’ve just washed it, you see, don’t want a Mudblood sliming it up.”

Some of the anger I had been feeling for days and days seemed to burst through a dam in my chest. I grabbed my wand, making people around me scramble away, backing down the corridor in fright.

“Etta!” Hermione said warningly.

“Go on then, Potter,” Draco said quietly, drawing out his own wand. “Moody’s not here to look after you now - do it, if you’ve got the guts-”

For a split second, we looked into each other’s eyes - I felt the familiar stirring of hatred swirl around in the pit of my stomach - then, at exactly the same time, both acted.

" _Furnunculus_!” I yelled.

" _Densaugeo_!” Draco screamed.

Jets of light shot from both our wands, hitting each other in mid-air. They ricocheted off at angles - mine hit Goyle in the face, and Draco’s hit Hermione.

I was pleased to see great ugly boils springing up on Goyle’s face. But then I noticed Hermione whimpering in panic, clutching her mouth.

“Hermione!” Ron hurried to her, worry etched over his features as he dragged Hermione’s hand away from her face.

And oh, my word, it was not a pretty sight.

Her two front teeth were growing at an alarming rate, making her look like a beaver. I could not believe Draco tried to hex me with that! Thank God it missed me! Poor Hermione, though.

“And what is all this noise about?” A soft deadly voice rang in the air, silencing us all. Snape had arrived.

He pointed a long yellow finger at Draco. “Explain.”

“Potter attacked me, sir -”

“We attacked each other at the same time!” I shouted. God, Draco really was a slimy git.

“- and she hit Goyle - look -”

Despite myself, I felt quite proud as Snape examined Goyle’s disgusting face.

“Hospital wing, Goyle,” Snape said calmly.

“Malfoy got Hermione!” Ron said. ” _Look_!”

He thrust Hermione in front of Snape, forcing her to show him her teeth, which had now grown down past her collar. Pansy Parkinson and the other Slytherin girls were doubled up with silent giggles. I shot them evils - not that they noticed.

Snape looked coldly at Hermione, then said, “I see no difference.”

WOAH! That was flipping low, even for Snape.

Hermione ran off in tears. Both Ron and I rounded on Snape at the same time, swearing and shouting at him in anger.

We both got landed with detentions and points taken from Gryffindor house. I didn’t care - we would probably win the house championship anyway. We always did.

We all filed into the classroom and, Ron continuing to be a prick, ignored me and went to sit with Seamus. Huffily, I went to sit at a spare seat towards the back of the class. Draco, sitting at the desk in front of me, turned around grinning smugly right at me and pressed his badge. _POTTER STINKS_ flashed across it.

It took me everything I had not to wipe that stupid annoying smirk off his face.


	13. Dates And Dragons

“DRAGONS?! I’m facing _dragons_?!”

“You can do this, Etta. We just need to stay calm and think-”

“STAY CALM?! What even is _this_?! Hermione, I am not facing dragons. I simply refuse.”

“But you can’t. As Dumbledore said, when you put your name in the Goblet, you are entering a binding, legal-”

“I DID NOT PUT MY NAME IN THE GOBLET OF FIRE!” Jesus, this school was starting to suck. If I had parents, I would be writing to them right now to get me out of this hell hole.

The Dursley’s, however, would probably shake Dumbledore’s hand and request front row seats.

Much like Draco Malfoy.

“Scared, Potter?” He hissed in my ear, the morning of the first task.

I had been making my way down to breakfast when he cornered me in the Entrance Hall.

I gave him the most derivative look I could muster, but the truth was I _was_ scared. Too scared to think of a witty insult.

Draco, on the other hand, was on top form.

“Got Crabbe and Goyle to save me the best seat in the house,” he leered, his grey eyes piercing gleefully into mine. “Cannot wait to see your arse _burn_ , Potter.”

“Oh, just fuck off, ferret face.”

That seemed to do the trick. The smirk instantly left his face, his pale cheeks forming a pink tinge.

I pushed past him and made my way into the Hall.

I would have enjoyed that if I were not feeling so shit scared about having to face a dragon in just a few hours time.

*****

I did it! I got the Golden Egg!

Thanks to Hermione helping me practice various charms and spells on the run up to the first task, I managed to summon my Firebolt and whoop that dragon’s butt.

I was on such a high. And the best part was Ron talking to me again. He finally realised that I had not put my name in the Goblet. Something he should have believed me about in the first place, but I was too happy to have my best friend back to point this out to him.

“Now would be a good time to get working on that egg.” Hermione said brightly the second we had stepped into the common room where a party was being held in my honour.

“Leave her be, Hermione,” Ron wailed. “Let Etta enjoy the moment.”

“Well, if you _want_ her to be unprepared for the second task, then _fine_!” Hermione replied haughtily. “But you were too busy sulking, of course, to know the pains we went through to prepare Etta for the first task.”

“Hush hush,” I said calmly, trying to keep the peace. “Hermione, don’t worry, I’ll work it out soon enough. But for now, let me enjoy this party.”

“Too right!” Fred cheered as he passed me a bottle of Butterbeer.

Hermione huffed away whilst Ron and I toasted to being best friends again.

*****

Horror of horrors - we were to have a Yule Ball.

And even worse, it was imperative that the champions each have dates.

“Who are you going to ask?” Hermione inquired as she bit into a potato.

I glanced over to where Cedric was sitting at the Hufflepuff table and felt my face grow hot.

“Don’t tell me you want to take pretty boy!” Ron spluttered, having noticed my blush.

“Well, I’m not taking _you_ , if that’s what you’re thinking,” I scoffed. “And besides, I was hoping _he_ would ask _me_.”

Ron pulled a face as he stuck a sausage in his mouth.

" _I’d_ go with you, Potter,” 

I shuddered at the familiar drawling tone - Draco Malfoy had halted behind me upon passing our table. 

“Except I don’t date four eyed freaks.”

“Get stuffed, Malfoy!” I turned, sneering up at his face. “As if I’d want to go with a filthy ferret like you anyway!”

I was satisfied to see the familiar irritation flicker in his eyes. His lip curled and he flipped me the finger before stalking off.

“I mean, he really does ask for it, doesn’t he?” Ron muttered. “It’s like he enjoys it or something.”

*****

“Etta, can I have a word with you please,” Cedric’s eyes cast over the library table where Hermione and Ron were grinning widely, “...in private.”

“Yes, um, sure,” I said, quickly standing up from my seat. Hermione gave me a not-so-subtle thumbs up as I followed Cedric over to the privacy of the bookcases.

“So, um... you know this ball we’re having on Christmas Day?” he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck.

It was cute how nervous he looked.

“Oh, the Yule Ball?” I said lightly, nodding my head. “Have you asked anyone yet?” I crossed my fingers behind my back.

“Well, I was just wondering, seeing as we are both champions, perhaps we - um...” he coughed. “P-Perhaps we could go together?”

 _Yes._ I could not help the wide smile forming on my lips. He looked back at me, his eyes full of trepidation.

“Well, it does make sense for us to go together, I suppose,” I shrugged, trying to play it cool.

Cedric beamed, his smile reaching his eyes.

“Great! Fantastic!” He said enthusiastically before calming himself. “I mean, you know - it should be a good night.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” I replied honestly.

Our eyes met, twinkling in excitement.


	14. The Girl In The Red Dress

I looked up as Hermione stepped into our dorm, my breath hitching at the sight of her in her stunning pink dress.

“Oh my God, Hermione - you look bloody gorgeous!”

She giggled in a very un-Hermione like way.

“So, do you Etta, Cedric’s not going to recognise you!”

The truth was _I_ did not even recognise me. I looked in the mirror at my reflection. My long red ballgown hugged at curves I never realised I had before. Instead of my usual messy knot, my hair hung loosely in black waves down my back. But the biggest difference was my glasses - I was not wearing them.

Hermione had persuaded me to wear contacts. I was not keen on them and felt naked without glasses sitting on my nose.

“Trust me - you look beautiful,” Hermione assured me as I tugged nervously at my dress.

Together, we walked down to the Entrance Hall where everyone was gathering for the Ball. We walked right past Ron who was dressed in some really ugly looking dress robes. The dipstick did not even seem to notice us.

I spotted Cedric and wished Hermione luck before drawing up to the handsome Hufflepuff and tapping tentatively on his back.

He whirled around and I noticed his eyes widen in amazement.

" _Etta_?” His mouth hung open as I nodded, smiling. “You - you look _stunning._ "

“Thank you,” I blushed, “you don't look too bad yourself, you know.”

He leant in, kissing my cheek, and I felt a tiny thrill zip right through me as he whispered in my ear. “ _I’m the luckiest guy at the ball."_

My pulse started racing and I thought my heart would just burst through my chest. 

And when the champions were called through, I allowed Cedric to place his hand on the small of my back as he guided me across the Entrance Hall, ready to make our grand appearance.

*****

Draco Malfoy was disgruntled. He really wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of a _ball_.

Pansy, on the other hand, would not shut up about it. She kept dancing around him asking him how she looked.

She just looked like Pansy, but in a dress. What did the woman want him to say?

As they walked arm in arm from the Slytherin common room, Draco briefly wondered who Potter was going with.

No doubt she would steal all the attention as usual.

He looked over at the mass of students in the Entrance Hall, all dressed up and chattering excitedly to one another.

His eyes rested upon the girl in the red dress standing with Cedric Diggory. He could only see her from behind, but he could already tell she was beautiful. Her long black hair fell in waves down her back and as she turned her head to accept a kiss from Diggory, Draco could not help but notice the perfection of her profile.

He literally could not take his eyes off this girl. He supposed she must have been from one of the visiting schools as he certainly did not recognise her.

He looked on enviously as Diggory led her away towards the ball. Evidently sensing his attention was elsewhere, Pansy clutched tightly at his arm, reminding him who he was here with.

They followed the crowds into the Great Hall where the ball was set up. Draco sighed as they were instructed to line up to allow the champions and their dates to pass in procession. It was all such a bullshit production.

He looked around for Potter, wondering where she had got to. Typical that she wanted to make some kind of dramatic entrance.

The champions approached, Diggory leading with the girl in the red dress. Draco held his breath in anticipation as they neared, eager to get a closer look at her.

The girl turned to look at him as she drew up beside him. Their eyes met and Draco’s mouth fell open in horror.

It was Potter.

*****

I looked on in glee at Draco’s shocked expression. _He hadn’t recognised me_. It was a delightful feeling seeing him work out who I was.

I smirked as his jaw literally dropped. Pansy clung possessively onto his arm looking positively fuming. 

Feeling euphoric, I gave them a little wave of fingers as we moved on.

“Are you holding up okay?” Cedric asked, as we walked into the middle of the dance floor with the other couples.

“I think so,” I smiled nervously as Cedric’s hand went to my waist, ready to waltz. “I just hope I don’t mess this up.”

“You’ll be fine,” he murmured huskily in my ear, “just follow my lead.”

As soon as the first notes of music sounded, he clasped my hand in his and began to expertly lead me into the steps. I kept my eyes firmly on Cedric’s as I tried my best to not to cock up.

I was relieved when the music came to an end. I was starving and just wanted to sit down and eat.

“You were brilliant,” Cedric whispered in my ear as he led me to the champions table. I giggled feeling rather giddy.

There was no food yet on the glittering golden plates, but menus lying in front of each of them. I picked mine up uncertainly, looking around - there were no waiters. Dumbledore, however, looked carefully down his own menu, then said very clearly to his plate, “Pork chops!”

And pork chops appeared! Wow - I was liking this very much. I glanced quickly at the menu in my hand and instantly saw what I wanted, “Lasagne!”

Cedric smiled at me as I instantly got stuck in, shovelling forkfuls of lasagne greedily into my mouth.

“Hungry?” He asked. He still had not even picked his menu up.

I slowed down, realising this was not a good look for a date. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and as I looked up, I was met with a pair of cold grey eyes from across the hall.

Draco was sat with Pansy at one of the little round tables and he was giving me an odd look. I could not read it, but he did not remove his eyes from me until Pansy nudged him.

Shrugging my shoulders, I looked across at our own table. Hermione was talking animatedly to her date, Viktor Krum. Behind her, I saw Ron glaring angrily from a distant table, not taking his eyes off Krum.

This ball was certainly making everyone act strangely.

I turned my attention back to my own date. Cedric was now tucking into a bowl of some sort of salad. I wrinkled my nose at it. 

“That’s not proper food!” I exclaimed. “Aren’t you hungry?”

Cedric’s eyes twinkled, and he put his fork down. “Truth be told, I can’t eat when I’m nervous.”

“But we’ve done the dance, we can just enjoy ourselves now.”

“It’s not the dancing that I was nervous about,” he said, not quite meeting my eye.

“Oh?”

“It’s you. I really like you, Etta,” his cheeks turned a slight shade of red.

I did not know what to say. I suddenly felt rather awkward.

“I quite like you too,” I said quietly.

And, as we exchanged coy smiles, the both of us blushing furiously, Draco Malfoy watched on scowling, wondering why he suddenly wanted to punch Cedric Diggory right in his pretty boy face.


	15. Murder On The Dance Floor

Things livened up when a band called The Weird Sisters trooped up onto the stage.

Everyone around me applauded wildly and enthusiastically. I had no idea who these hairy people were but when they picked up their instruments, everyone scrambled onto the dance floor to dance wildly to their music.

“Fancy it?” Cedric asked, cocking an eyebrow, “work off some of that lasagne?”

“Cheeky git,” I laughed, taking his proffered hand as I stood up.

He led me through the throng on the dance floor. The heat and noise hit me instantly as we moved amongst the bodies. Cedric placed his hands on my hips, our bodies moving in time to the music. I shook my head around wildly, drowning in the atmosphere.

One song went into another as we laughed and danced the night away, our skin beginning to glisten with sweat. At one point I lost Cedric to the crowd, but I did not care. Everyone was dancing with wild abandonment. I felt as though I could go on like this all night long, my body moving to the crazy beat like it belonged to the music.

A pair of hands grabbed my waist from behind and I twirled around grinning, expecting to see Cedric.

But it was not him. Instead, I found myself face to face with Draco Malfoy. He had a hungry expression on his face, grey eyes glinting into mine. He pulled me to him and leant down so that his lips were just above my ear.

“You’re looking hot tonight, Potter,” he growled.

I could not quite believe what was happening. My heart raced in my chest and I was suddenly very aware of his scent; his cologne making me dizzy.

Before I could react, someone grabbed my arm, yanking me out of his embrace.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Malfoy?”

Cedric, still holding my arm, hissed threateningly down at Draco. Bodies carried on dancing around us, oblivious to what was going on as the music continued pumping in our ears.

Draco simply smirked, not looking at all bothered. “Just catching up with a friend.”

His eyes flicked back to me, looking me up and down suggestively. I felt oddly self conscious - I did not like Draco looking at me like this. Clearly enjoying my discomfort, he slowly and deliberately winked at me.

Having had enough, Cedric grabbed the lapels of Draco’s shirt, pulling him up to his height. “Piss off, Malfoy, before I deck you one.”

“Chill, Diggory,” Draco chuckled, instantly shrugging him off. “Just being friendly, that’s all.”

Straightening his shirt, he threw me a smirk before disappearing back into the crowd.

 _What the actual fuck_?! Draco Malfoy coming on to me was not something I had ever expected. And it really, truly unnerved me.

I glanced guiltily up at Cedric who was visibly shaking in anger. The fury in his eyes was unmistakable. I suddenly wished I were back in my dormitory, out of this ridiculous outfit and back in my glasses.

“Come on,” he muttered moodily, grabbing my hand, and dragging me off the dance floor, back towards our table.

“Look, Cedric,” I said breathlessly, digging my heels into the ground before we could sit down, “I think I’ve had enough for tonight.”

Immediately letting go of my hand, his shoulders sagged in defeat, and he looked down at me regretfully. “I’m sorry, Etta. I just didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“You and me both,” I laughed awkwardly, my stomach knotting as I recalled the hunger that had been swirling in the Slytherin's silver eyes.

Angry voices made me glance over to where Ron was sitting. He seemed to be in some kind of furious debate with Hermione, his date, Padma, sitting sulkily with her arms crossed next to him.

This night seemed to be rapidly turning into a disaster for everyone.

“Listen, before you go,” Cedric said, drawing my attention back, “I was just wondering if you’ve managed to work out the clue?”

 _Clue_? I looked at him confused, not having the foggiest idea what he was going on about.

“You know - the golden egg? Does yours wail when you open it?”

 _Oh..._ that thing. Mutely, I nodded.

“Well... take a bath, okay?”

“What?” Was he _insulting_ me?! I quickly dipped my head to give my armpit a discreet sniff.

He emitted a soft chuckle. “Take a bath, and - er - take the egg with you, and - er - just mull things over in the hot water. It’ll help you think... trust me.”

I just stared stupidly up at him.

“Tell you what,” Cedric continued, “use the Prefects’ bathroom. Fourth door to the left of that statue of Boris the Bewildered on the fifth floor. Password’s _Pine-Fresh._ "

“O...kay,” I said slowly. I was still reeling in shock from Draco’s unexpected advances, and I could not think straight. I just wanted my bed.

Cedric kissed the back of my hand and smiled at me, his eyes sparkling. “I had fun tonight, thank you for being my date.”

I smiled back at him, a warm feeling spreading through me. “I had fun too, thank you for asking me.”

I left him standing there, declining his offer to walk me back to the Gryffindor Tower, wanting space to clear my head. 

As I took the long route through the hallways, I came to the eventual conclusion that Draco must have been acting on some kind of dare. It was the only explanation.

Except... it did not explain the look in had had in his eyes.

By the time I got back to the common room, Ron and Hermione were already there, in the middle of a blazing row.

“Well, if you don’t like it, you know what the solution is, don’t you?” Hermione yelled at him, face scarlet with anger.

“Oh yeah?” Ron yelled back. “What’s that?”

“Next time there’s a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!”

Ron’s mouth opened and shut like a goldfish as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the staircase to the girls dormitories. Ron turned to look at me.

“Well,” He spluttered, looking thunderstruck, “Well - that just proves - completely missed the point -”

I did not know what had happened. I all I knew was that this flipping ball had made everyone go completely doolally. I stalked to bed, looking forward to the day being over and for everything and every _one_ to go back to normal.

But, of course, that never happened.


	16. The Bathroom

Taking Cedric’s advice, I woke up early one morning, grabbed my golden egg and crept out of the common room.

Life after the ball had been weird. Ron and Hermione carried on talking after their spat, but there was an awkwardness between them that had not been there before. I chose to ignore it, hoping it would eventually go away.

And then there was Cedric. He would smile coyly at me across the hall at mealtimes but apart from that - nothing. I wondered if he had regretted taking me to the ball. I did not know what I was hoping from him, and I did not know how to talk to him.

The least I could do was to take his advice and try and work out what this stupid second task would entail.

Following the directions he had given me, I found the door to the prefects’ bathroom, hovering by it hesitantly.

“Like some company, Potter?”

I froze at the familiar drawling voice, my breath hitching in my throat. I had been avoiding Draco Malfoy ever since that night, for obvious reasons.

I looked up at his approaching figure, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. He wore his usual smirk across his smug face as his eyes danced delightedly into mine.

“Get bent, Malfoy,” I muttered, clasping the egg tightly in my hands.

“No need to be so rude,” he closed the distance between us, stopping only inches from me. A whiff of his cologne hit me, making me shiver involuntarily.

“So, pretty boy has told you about the bathroom, has he?” he continued, leering down at me.

“How would you even know? It’s not like you’re a prefect, Malfoy,” I spat, wishing he would just piss off.

“Oh, I know things, Potter,” he growled, leaning in closer to me. I dared look into his eyes, and they glinted wickedly into mine. “I know red suits you. Gave me something to think about in the shower.”

I recoiled in utter revulsion. If this creepy git thought this was actually flattering, then he could think again.

“Seriously, Malfoy,” I sniped, “get back to Pansy before she chops your balls off.”

But this did not seem to deter him.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he grinned widely. “Pretty boy not joining you then? If you ask nicely, _I_ might be willing.”

“In your dreams, prick,” I said, pushing him away. He had gotten far too close for my comfort.

He chuckled as he staggered backwards. “Oh, don’t you know it, _Potter_.”

I wrenched the door open, hastily sliding into the bathroom before shutting it firmly behind me.

My heart was hammering in my chest and my breathing fast and shallow. I leant my head back against the door waiting to calm down. Draco Malfoy had gotten me completely riled up and I did not like it one bit.

I made sure to put extra charms on the lock, ensuring he would not do something so stupid as to follow me in.

And then I noticed the room I was in.

Bloody hell! This place was something else. With warm colours and soft lighting, I could see why prefects would come here to relax. It was huge, yet cosy at the same time, with a bathtub resembling more the size of a large swimming pool containing hundreds of fancy taps, all of which seemed to be pouring from them different coloured bubbles.

I eagerly stripped off my clothes and sank into the warm, welcoming water.

Turned out I had company.

Moaning Myrtle.

She was very giggly and rather annoying. I just wanted her to leave me alone so I could work out how to find the clue.

In the end, Myrtle finally told me to dunk it under water. Despite her help, she was pissing me off, talking about how she had watched Cedric naked in the bath.

Maybe I ought to introduce her to Draco, they both seemed as horny as the other.

But in the meantime, I just wanted to get out of there - away from _her_.

So, I found out that my second task was going to be in the depths of the Great Lake and that I had to retrieve something precious from it.

How the fuck was I going to breathe?!

I ran back to the common room, hoping at least Hermione would be able to help me.

“I thought you said you worked out the clue _ages_ ago?!” Hermione scolded me.

“I - uh - I... I lied.” I shrugged my shoulders nonchalantly. “Sorry.”

The problem was the second task was only days away. Time seemed to have passed me by and, in all the drama, I had forgotten about the egg.

“Merlin, Etta!” Ron cried. “What are we supposed to do?!”

But that was just it. It was not _them_ who had to do anything. It was me. All sodding me.


	17. Let's Take It Together

So here it was. The second task.

I was saved, not by Hermione, but by Dobby. I never thought he would come in useful. But there he was - offering me this stuff called _Gillyweed_.

It was the morning of the task and I had already given myself up for dead so you can imagine how grateful I was.

Carrying the Gillyweed in my hand, I joined the other champions beside the lakeside. The whole school was watching us from the temporary stands which had been erected in honour of the second task. I glanced up, looking hopefully for the friendly faces of Ron or Hermione, but I could not see them anywhere.

I shivered in my bikini as I stood next to Cedric. He smiled down at me, looking rather dashing in his trunks.

“You okay, Etta?”

My eyes lingered on his bare chest longer than I should have allowed them to.

“Y-Yes,” I stuttered. I felt the heat rise to my cheeks. “Just a bit... cold, you know.”

I quickly folded my arms across my chest, praying that the coldness had not been showing in more ways than one.

“Well, good luck,” he said in his silky soft voice, his eyes creasing up in amusement.

So, there I was, stuffing this green shit in my gob before diving into the lake. It was fucking freezing! Honestly, the things I did for this stupid school.

Fighting my way through the absolute horrors of the lake, I finally found myself at some kind of underwater village. There were figures, unconscious and tied up. I recognised two of them instantly - Ron and Hermione!

Merlin. What kind of fucked up school event was this supposed to be?

Seeing as Krum had swum past me and started to untie Hermione; the other prisoner was Cedric’s dad; and I had zero idea who the blonde chick on the end was, I could only deduce that my prisoner was Ron.

Cedric grinned at me as he finally approached and rescued his dad, I was about to follow him with Ron, but then I realised there was no sign of Fleur and I felt very uneasy about leaving the little girl all by herself.

So naturally I decided to save her as well as Ron.

Well, that went down well.

Actually, it really did as it earned me extra points for being so awesome.

Get in.

*****

“It would have been you; you know.”

I turned towards the silky soft voice. Cedric had caught up with me as I headed towards the changing rooms. Water was still dripping from his hair, he shook his head, flipping specks around him just like a dog.

“What do you mean?” I asked, my damp skin causing me to shiver.

“If you hadn’t been a champion, you would have been the one I needed to rescue.”

“Oh.” I did not know how to respond. Cedric was admitting he _cared_ for me. “Thank you.”

He suddenly looked bashful, his hand nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I’m sorry if it seems as though I've been keeping my distance lately. I was just worried that I’d upset you during the ball and I wanted to give you some space.”

“Upset me? How?” I frowned. As far as I could remember he had been the perfect gentleman.

“You know... the Malfoy thing. I feel I may have been slightly full on in warning him off. But the way he was looking at you... it had me, I don’t know - _alarmed_.”

Him and me both.

“It’s okay,” I quickly assured him, smiling to show him there were no hard feelings. “I like that you stuck up for me, honestly. It was... nice.”

“Nice?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow.

" _Very_ nice,” I said coyly, biting my lower lip which had pretty much turned blue by this point.

Placing his hands on my shoulders, he leaned in as though he was going to kiss me. But then, noticing just how much I was shivering, he halted, and quickly beckoned me towards the changing rooms instead.

“Ladies first,” he smiled, his cheeks now burning a crimson red.

*****

So, I had survived the second task. The only thing I had to worry about next was getting through the next flipping one.

My fucking life.

Ron and Hermione spent all their free time helping me practice different hexes and jinxes to prepare me for it. Apparently the third task was to be set in a maze and we were to face obstacles.

Christ, I hated mazes as it was, even without the added bonus of things attacking me from amongst the hedges.

“Counting your last days, Potter?”

I rolled my eyes as Draco drew up beside me on my way down to dinner. It was just a week before the task, and I had managed to successfully avoid Draco since that morning outside the prefects bathroom. I had been hoping that he had gotten bored of me.

Fat chance.

“To be honest, Malfoy, if it means not having to endure you anymore, then I’d happily cark it.”

“Ouch!” He chuckled. “And there I was going to offer you a good luck kiss.”

Unbelievable.

“No thanks, I’m pretty much sorted in that department already,” I smirked, my eyes glinting over at the Hufflepuff table as we entered the Hall.

I heard Draco hiss whilst I gave a little wave to Cedric. His eyes sparkled up at me as he gave me a little wave back.

“Isn’t pretty boy a bit old for you?” Draco muttered in my ear. I caught a whiff of that cologne again. “And what’s his problem anyway? Fancy being attracted to a fourteen-year-old _child_ with a great big ugly scar.”

“Well, you would know.” I retorted, turning to head towards the Gryffindor table. “See you around, ferret face.”

I left Draco spluttering furiously on the spot.

*****

“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Tied in first place, on eighty-five points each - Mr Cedric Diggory and Miss Henrietta Potter, both of Hogwarts School!”

Oh. My. Fucking. God. I was bricking it.

I looked over at Cedric who smiled nervously back at me. He reached out his hand and touched the ends my fingers. _Good luck_ he mouthed.

I was grateful for this gesture - my heart had been thudding furiously in my chest and my wand shaking crazily in my hand. Cedric had managed to calm me somewhat.

“So... on my whistle, Potter and Diggory!” Ludo Bagman roared. “Three - two - one -”

He gave a short blast on his whistle, and Cedric and I hurried forwards to the maze. As soon as we entered, the sounds of the surrounding, cheering crowd was silenced.

Cedric and I parted ways and I shakily made my way into the thick of the maze.

Oh my word, it was terrifying. I came across a Boggart, some kind of upside-down charm, a Blast-Ended Skrewt (cheers, Hagrid) a sphinx, and to top it off, one of those massive spiders from the Forbidden Forest.

How I survived all of that, I will never know.

Just me being awesome, I suppose.

And then I had reached the middle. But I was not the only one. Cedric too found the Triwizard Cup at the exact same time.

We stared from the Cup to each other.

“Both of us,” I said.

“What?”

“We’ll take it at the same time. It’s still a Hogwarts victory. We’ll tie for it.”

Cedric just stared at me. “You - you sure?”

“Yeah,” I smiled offering out my hand. “We both got here. Let’s just take it together.”

For a moment, Cedric just stared at me, flabbergasted; then his face split into a grin.

“You’re on,” He said, taking my hand. “Let’s do this.”

Together, we walked right up to the Cup, both holding out a hand over the the Cup’s gleaming handles.

“On three, right?” I spoke. “One - two-”

“Wait,” Cedric interrupted me. And before I could ask for what, he leaned in and pressed his lips against mine.

Our first kiss.

Just a shame it would also be our last.


	18. So Long, Cedric

“Where are we?”

I looked up from where I was sprawled on the ground. The Triwizard Cup was laying next to me.

Cedric shook his head, pulling me to my feet. “No idea,”

We looked around. This was weird. We were in some kind of graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie. We were definitely not in Hogwarts anymore.

“Is this supposed to be part of the task?” I wondered, getting my wand out at the ready.

“I dunno,” Cedric, too clutched at his wand, sounding nervous. He grabbed my hand pulling me by his side. “Stay close, it could be dangerous.”

“Someone’s coming,” I pointed out suddenly.

A figure was making their way towards us, walking between the graves. They were carrying something that looked almost like a baby swaddled in a bundle of robes.

I did not like this one bit. Cedric squeezed my hand, sensing my fear. I was so flipping glad he was here with me.

We watched as the figure, a short, cloaked man, stopped only six feet away from us beside a towering marble headstone. And then he looked at me.

I was not prepared for the pain that exploded through my scar. I dropped my wand as my hands went straight to my face, trying desperately to somehow stop the pain. It was like nothing I had ever felt before in all my life. My knees buckled beneath me and I could see nothing as I fell to the ground. I was sure my head was going to split in two.

And then I heard a high, cold voice. The words he spoke made it feel as though the ground had disappeared from underneath me.

" _Kill the spare_ ,”

A swishing noise and a second voice, which screeched the words to the night: ” _Avada Kedavra!”_

 _No_! I could not breathe. I heard something heavy fall to the ground next to me. The pain in my head made me retch and I could not, _would not_ believe that Cedric had just been killed. I was terrified to look up, to have my worst fear confirmed. But still, I opened my eyes, stinging from pain.

I let out a huge violent sob. Cedric was lying spread-eagled on the ground beside me, his once sparkling eyes staring blank and expressionless into the night.

Dead.

*****

What happened next really fucked me up for life.

To cut a long story short, I came face to face with a now resurrected Lord Voldemort, after I witnessed Wormtail actually cutting off his own hand to bring him back to life.

Voldemort then brutally tortured me to the audience of Death Eaters, all of whom watched and laughed. Including Lucius Malfoy, Draco’s father. There were other names I recognised; Crabbe, Goyle, Nott. None of them surprised me.

He tortured me over and over again on the grave of his father and I thought I was surely going to die. Just when I got to the point I would happily beg for death to come, he stopped.

He challenged me to a duel. What a joke! I could barely effing stand! I tried running away and hiding behind the graves. But it was no use. I was just being laughed at. I was never going to be able to get away. So, I pulled myself together, determined to die facing my enemy and not cowering from him.

" _Expelliarmus!”_

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

Voldemort’s killing curse hit my disarming one and crazy shit happened. Our wands were connected by a golden thread of light, and it seemed to give me protection somehow.

And then, at the end of Voldemort’s wand, out stepped a ghost. It was Cedric.

He looked at me and smiled. “Hold on, Etta,” he said, the voice echoey as though from somewhere far away.

Tears pricked at my eyes; I could almost still feel the tingle of my lips where he had kissed me. 

“I’m sorry, Cedric." I sobbed. "I'm so sorry."

“It’s okay, Etta,” he smiled sadly now, “just hold on, promise to hold on.”

And then other ghosts followed. Including my parents - their presence giving me sudden strength. I _knew_ I could do this.

"Our beautiful, brave girl," my mother beamed, tears in her ghostly eyes as my father encouraged me not to let go.

“Etta...” whispered the figure of Cedric, “take my body back, will you? Take my body back to my parents...”

“I will,” I promised, tears now rolling down my cheeks, “I will.”

“Do it now,” whispered my father’s voice. “Be ready to run... do it now...”

“NOW!” I screamed, and the connection broke. I was no longer protected.

Blindly, I ran towards where Cedric and the Cup lay. Spells flew past me, luckily all missing me. I could hear Voldemort roaring as I threw myself down to the ground, grabbing Cedric’s limp arm with one hand and touching the Cup with the other. 

The graveyard disappeared as I made my way back to Hogwarts.

*****

Cedric, the Cup, and I landed on the ground with a _thud_. I let go of the Cup, clutching Cedric’s body to me as the sounds of cheers went up all around me. I squeezed my eyes tight shut, not wanting to open them, not wanting to face reality ever again.

The cheering soon turned to sounds of confusion and shouting, as people realised something was not right. I could hear the deafening sound of footsteps coming closer and closer. I squeezed Cedric’s body tighter and tighter to me, my head spinning with fear.

“Etta! Etta!” I could not work out whose voice that was. I did not care. I wanted them all to go away and leave me be with Cedric.

Hands grabbed at my shoulders, “Etta! What’s happened?”

I looked up into the eyes of Professor Dumbledore. ” _He’s back_ ,” I whispered, before burying my face back into Cedric’s chest.

“Good God! He’s dead! Diggory’s dead!”

The voice of Cornelius Fudge boomed across the grounds and I could make out other people shouting in disbelief.

" _Cedric’s dead_?”

“Quick, Dumbledore, Amos is coming over. Perhaps we better warn him before-”

“MY BOY! MY BOY!”

I felt someone pulling me off Cedric. I desperately tried to hold on. I knew the minute I let go he would really be gone. Tears coursed down my face as I was being dragged away. I could see Amos flinging himself down to where I just had been, sobbing for the boy who was now dead.

“Etta, it’s okay," a comforting voice soothed in my ear, "it's okay,”

Arms flung around me. It was Ron and Hermione. They both held on to me tightly as I sobbed uncontrollably.

But it was not okay because Cedric was dead, and Voldemort was back. 

How could it ever be okay again?


	19. Numb

I opened my eyes, shutting them instantly again as sunlight blinded me. For a wonderful, blissful, ignorant moment, I had no recollection of the previous night’s events.

And then it all came flooding back, hitting me like a ton of bricks. My chest went tight, and I felt a heaviness in my heart. I curled up tightly, trying to squeeze the pain out of me.

The graveyard. Lord Voldemort. _Cedric_.

“Hey, Etta, it’s alright.”

Hermione leant over my bed and started stroking my hair. It was then that I realised I was crying.

She crawled into bed with me, wrapping her arms comfortingly around my shaking body. She stayed like that until my sobbing subsided.

“We should go down for something to eat,” Hermione said gently after a while.

I recoiled at the idea of ever leaving this dormitory. The thought of facing everyone made my stomach twist violently and filled me with a cold terror.

“I know it won’t be easy,” Hermione continued, moving around the room to find me some clothes. “But Ron and I’ll be by your side and you won’t have to say anything to anyone. Not even us if you don’t want to. But _please_ come and get something to eat.”

Reluctantly, I agreed. But only because I knew Hermione would never have taken no for an answer.

I got out of bed with effort; my whole body aching as though I had just ran ten marathons, and then some.

“Madam Pomfrey said you’ll be sore for a while,” Hermione said, noticing me wincing. And then, to my horror, tears fell from her eyes. “You are so brave, Etta.”

“No, I’m not,” I muttered flatly. “I watched him die. He’s dead because of me.”

“Don’t say that!” Hermione threw her arms around me again. “It’s all You Know Who’s doing. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent it.”

I moved away from her, not being able to bear her sympathy.

Once I got dressed, we slowly walked down to the common room. I was grateful only Ron was there, waiting. I could not meet his eyes, afraid to see the pity in them.

We all walked silently down to the Great Hall. My heart hammering noisily as we stepped through the doors and were greeted with the quiet, mournful murmurs of students.

My vision blurred at the sight before me. The entire Hall was draped in not the usual house colours of red, green, blue, and yellow; but black. Black for death.

The chattering stopped as we walked over to the Gryffindor table. I kept my eyes firmly down at my feet and tried not to listen to the low murmurs and furtive whispers around us. I could feel hundreds of eyes boring into me. My hands started sweating and I felt a wild panic build in my chest. I could not do this.

As if sensing my discomfort, both Ron and Hermione grabbed my arms and gently coaxed me down to a seat at the table, glaring at everyone around us.

“It’s okay,” Ron whispered in my ear. “Just pretend it’s only me and Hermione here with you.” He held my hand comfortingly under the table. Hermione held the other.

When Dumbledore stood up to say his end of year speech, I switched off. I did not want to listen. My eyes wandered involuntarily over to the Slytherin table. A loud ringing started up in my ears as I saw Draco Malfoy whispering furtively with Crabbe and Goyle. _Sons of Death Eaters_.

As if sensing my gaze, Draco looked up. His cold grey eyes pierced into mine. The sneer on his face was unmistakable. My heart thudding in anger, I looked away.

*****

I stared miserably back up at the castle as I stepped onto the train. I had never felt so empty and low in my life. The thought of going back to the Dursley’s depressed me; but being here at the castle depressed me even more so.

There were too many reminders of Cedric; of what we had and of what we could have been. He had been one of the kindest and sweetest people I had ever known. The tragedy and injustice of his life being cut so horrifically short made me feel sick to the bones.

Morosely, I made my way down the train corridor, dumping my luggage in a mid carriage storage compartment. I froze as someone entered behind me.

“Trying not to think about it, Potter?” A soft, drawling voice spoke into my ear. “Trying to pretend it hasn’t happened?”

“Get away from me.” I seethed, my voice shaking in anger.

I spun round and Draco’s smirking face was just inches from mine. I recoiled in disgust.

Before I could push past him, his hands shot out, snapping long, white fingers tightly around my wrists.

“You’ve picked the losing side, Potter!” he snarled, his face so close to mine that I could feel hot breath tickle my cheek. “I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember?”

His fingers squeezed my wrists even tighter, the pain making my eyes sting.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Malfoy,” I gritted through clenched teeth, straining against his strong grip.

“Too late now, Potter!” He continued, ignoring me as his eyes glinted wickedly into mine. “Your little friends will be the first to go, now the Dark Lord’s back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first! Well - second - Diggory was the f-”

That did it. I headbutted him as hard as I could. Draco’s head whipped violently back, specks of blood flying in the air. He staggered back in surprise, releasing my wrists to clutch at his bloody nose.

My forehead throbbed in pain, but I did not care. It had been worth it.

“That’s for Cedric.”

I pushed past him, pausing at the door to give him one last parting shot.

“Oh, and send my regards to Daddy Dearest. Tell him the other night was a real _pleasure_.” I smirked, slamming the door behind me.

I walked up the train to find Ron and Hermione, my step a little lighter.

But it was with a heavy heart when we arrived in London and I turned to my friends to say goodbye.

The three of us hugged one another hard, promising to write. Neither of us wanted to part, and I especially did not want to return to the Dursley’s where I was unloved, unwanted, and abused.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione assured me, kissing my cheek. “I’m sure Dumbledore will arrange for you to stay at the Weasley’s before we return to school.”

“Yeah,” Ron agreed as he playfully ruffled my hair, “I’ll make sure to badger Mum every day. She’ll have you round in no time, if only just to shut me up.”

“I love you guys,” I whispered tearfully, throwing my arms back around them.

We held onto one another a little longer this time, neither of us knowing what Lord Voldemort’s return would mean for us all.


	20. In His Eyes

So, I save Dudley’s fat arse and the next thing I know I’m being _expelled_?!

This is just so typical of my life. I mean, I can’t even sneeze without accidentally killing my fucking boyfriend.

Anyway, Dumbledore eventually pulled his finger out and sent a bunch of misfits to rescue me from the Dursley’s. They took me to a secret house which happened to belong to my godfather. Awesome, another rich ‘relative’ to leave me shit loads of gold in their will.

I would have been happy to be there, but I was still shit depressed about what happened in the graveyard. So everyone got the moody stick from me.

I had to take a trip to the Ministry with Mr Weasley to sort out this expulsion stuff. Luckily, Dumbledore saved the day and I was allowed to go back to school. Yay, I guess.

And I would have been happy about this too, if it wasn’t for the fact that both Ron _and_ Hermione were made Prefects and I _wasn’t_. I mean - that’s so unfair. It’s not like I was nearly expelled or anything.

So, my big phat mood continued, to the point where my own friends didn’t even like hanging out with me.

A sigh of relief all around when the first day of September arrived. Sirius came along to say goodbye in dog form. It was a risky move, but hey ho.

As soon as we got on the train, I was pissed off to learn that Ron and Hermione were to abandon me for their _Prefect_ _duties_. Sulking, I went with Ginny to find a compartment. We came across one with Neville, and a girl I was introduced to as Luna. She was quite the dotty one.

Ron and Hermione came back with the news that Draco and Pansy were the new Slytherin prefects. Fucking typical. Something else for that smug bastard to lord over me with.

And of course he wasted no time in coming to find me.

“ _What_?” I spat at him aggressively as he stood smirking at me from the compartment door.

“Manners, Potter, or I’ll have to give you a detention,” he drawled smoothly. “You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments.”

“Yeah,” I said, “But you, unlike me, are a fucking prick, so get out and leave us alone.”

Draco’s lip curled. Our eyes met and a frisson of hatred sparked between us.

“Tell me, Potter, how does it feel coming second best to Granger and Weasley?”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione said sharply.

“I seem to have touched a nerve,” Draco said, smirking, his eyes never leaving my direction. “Well, just watch yourself, Potter, because I’ll be _dogging_ your footsteps in case you step out of line.”

“Get out!” Hermione said, standing up.

Sniggering, Draco gave me one last malicious look and departed, with Crabbe and Goyle lumbering along in his wake.

I felt unnerved by what Draco had said. Did he _know_ about Sirius? Had he recognised the dog on the platform, somehow?

I tried not to let it bother me as the train trundled us in for another year at Hogwarts. Thinking about Draco Malfoy was such a waste of time.

*****

I stopped, flabbergasted at the sight before me. The once horseless carriages that took us to the castle from the train station were now being pulled by these horrific skeletal looking creatures. 

And if that wasn’t bad enough, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Teacher was basically a toad! Ew, she gave me the creeps - I recognised her from my hearing at the Ministry. She was a horrible little woman.

Straight away, Professor Umbridge took a dislike to me. She called me a liar in front of the whole class. And that’s another thing - no one believes that I saw Lord Voldemort rise in the graveyard. No one believes that Cedric died at his hands.

No one that is except Ron and Hermione. And of course, Draco Malfoy.

Although he took great pleasure in teasing me over my new found lack of popularity.

“Oh look! It’s the girl who tells lies!” He snarled with glee as he caught me leaving the Great Hall after dinner one evening.

“ _Fuck_ _off_ ,” I snapped, really not in the mood.

“Oooo, language, Potter. I think I may take fifty points from Gryffindor for that.” He chuckled, smugly fondling his green and silver badge as he walked alongside me.

“Like I give a fuck,” I muttered, trying to quicken my pace so as to get away from him.

“Detention, Potter.” He said, speeding up too.

" _Really_?” I said incredulously, whirling around to face him. “And just how exactly am I supposed to fit that in around my detentions with Umbridge?!”

Draco’s eyes glittered as another smirk played on his lips. “Not my problem, Potter. _You_ need to learn to start being a good girl.”

Huffing angrily, I pushed him aside to carry on my way up the corridor.

“And just where do you think you’re going, Potter?” He called to me.

“To the library to do my _homework_!” I spat over my shoulder. “Not that it’s any of _your_ business.”

“It is when you’re supposed to be in detention with _me_ ,” he drawled lazily.

I stopped in my tracks, fury taking over as I spun round and stormed back to him.

To my satisfaction, a look of fear flickered in his eyes as I closed the space between us. I placed my hands on his shoulders and violently pushed him into the wall behind him.

“Don’t fuck with me, Malfoy!” I hissed, pushing my face right up in his. “Do you really think I’m ever going to listen to _you_ after what I witnessed your _daddy_ doing in that graveyard?”

I was pleased to see anger flit in his cold grey eyes. Grabbing my upper arms, he roughly pulled me up against him, pressing his mouth to my ear.

“All the more reason to do what I say then, Potter,”

Our eyes locked onto one another, almost daring the other one to blink first.

We did not move, we did not speak. Only the sounds of our furious angry breaths passed between us. My lips suddenly felt horrendously dry and my tongue swept automatically over them.

A look flickered in his eyes, and before I could work out what it was, the sound of approaching footsteps made us spring suddenly apart.

My heart hammering noisily in my chest, I turned around and practically sprinted away as fast as I could without running.

He didn’t attempt to call me back this time.

When I got to the safety of the library, only then did I admit to myself what it was that I saw in his eyes.

_Lust._


	21. Weasley Is Our King

After my heated encounter with Draco, I tried to stay out of his way. I had not liked the way he had made me feel. It unnerved me.

Thankfully, he seemed to be doing the same. Apart from the odd smirk, he toned down the taunting in our shared classes and averted his eyes if we passed in the corridor.

I had so much shit to deal with. Umbridge was making me _torture_ myself in detention. _I must not tell lies_ is now etched permanently upon the back of my hand. Fucking psycho bitch. I was half tempted to write _Umbridge is an ugly old toad_ instead, but then figured I would not want to be scarred with her name for life.

But I could not avoid Draco when it came to Quidditch. We were both Seekers for our team and were to compete at the next game. But I was dreading it for Ron’s sake more than anything though.

He had tried out for Gryffindor Keeper this year and got in. But he was not very confident, and I knew the Slytherins, especially one in particular, would prey on this fact.

And that he did.

As soon as we mounted our brooms at the start of the match, I could not help but notice a badge pinned to the front of Draco’s green Quidditch robes. I could just make out the words _Weasley_ and _King_. He caught my eye and smirked, smugly tapping the crown-shaped badge.

I vowed right there and then that I would find the Snitch before Draco or die trying. I gave him a look in return that said as much. His eyes glinted amusedly, and I felt a swirl of hatred rip through my stomach.

There was a song. Of _course_ , there was. I fumed, listening to the lyrics as I kept my eyes out for that Golden Snitch.

" _WEASLEY_ _WAS BORN IN A BIN_  
 _HE ALWAYS LETS THE QUAFFLE IN_  
 _WEASLEY WILL MAKE SURE WE WIN...”_

After a painful hour, I finally saw it. Unfortunately, so did Draco. We both went for the little golden ball at the same time, Draco clawing at my arm as he drew up beside me. I leant down on my broom, urging it to go faster.

I could feel his desperation, feel his anger that I was going to get to it first.

And I caught it! I bloody won us the game! Fuck, I’m awesome.

“Saved Weasley’s neck, haven’t you?” Draco sniped, evidently pissed off as he landed close by. “I’ve never seen a worse Keeper... but then he was _born in a bin_... did you like my lyrics, Potter?”

I refused to answer. I was not going to rise to his bait. Instead, I turned away to meet the rest of the team who were now landing one by one, yelling and punching the air in triumph; all except Ron, I noticed, who had dismounted from his broom over by the goalposts and seemed to be making his way slowly back to the changing rooms alone.

“We wanted to write another couple of verses!” Draco called over, as Katie and Alicia hugged me. “But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see-”

“Talk about sour grapes,” Angelina muttered, casting Draco a disgusted look.

“-we couldn’t fit in _useless_ _loser_ either - for his father, you know-”

Fred and George had been halfway through congratulating me on my awesomeness, when they froze, looking round at Draco.

“Leave it!” Angelina said at once, taking Fred by the arm. “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, The jumped-up little-”

“-but you like the Weasley’s, don’t you, Potter?” Draco sneered at me. “Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you? Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by Muggles, even the Weasley’s hovel smells okay -”

Instinctively, I grabbed hold of George before he could lunge. Meanwhile, it was taking the combined efforts of Angelina, Alicia, and Katie to stop Fred leaping on Draco, who was now laughing openly. I looked around for Madam Hooch, but she was busy yelling at Crabbe.

“Or perhaps,” Draco said, leering at me as he backed away, “you can remember what _your_ mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it-”

THE LITTLE FUCKING PRICK! TOO FLIPPING FAR!

Seeing only red, I let go of George and went sprinting towards Draco myself. I did not care that there were witnesses; all I wanted to do was to cause Draco as much pain as possible.

I literally threw myself at him, we both toppled to the ground, me landing on top of him. I straddled him, my fist poised, still holding the Snitch, ready to punch him right in the jaw.

His eyes glinted up at me as I hesitated.

“Go on, then, Potter,” he growled, his eyes wide with amusement, “you know you want to.”

A jolt of what I could only describe as electricity went through my stomach. My fisted arm lowered a fraction, and - as if of their own accord, my eyes darted to his lips.

This did not go unnoticed by Draco, who chuckled beneath me.

“JUST WHAT IN THE BLAZES IS GOING ON HERE?!”

I jumped as Professor McGonagall bellowed behind me. I quickly scrambled off a deeply amused looking Draco. He sat up, ruffling his hair so that it fell back messily over his head.

“Just Potter getting over excited as per usual,” he smirked, delight twinkling in his eyes.

I glared at him, hatred ebbing through me. “He was insulting my mother,” I snarled.

“But instead of leaving it to Madam Hooch to sort out, you decided to give an exhibition of Muggle duelling, did you?”

“I didn’t even hit him!” I yelled, wishing I had.

" _Hem, hem_ "

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Umbridge walked up, wrapped in a green tweed cloak that greatly enhanced her resemblance to a giant toad.

“May I help, Professor McGonagall?” She asked in her most poisonous sweet voice.

“I’m dealing with this, thank you, Dolores,” McGonagall snipped, turning her attention back to me. “Now, I do not care what provocation Malfoy offered you, I do not care if he insulted every family member you possess, your behaviour was disgusting and I’m giving you a week’s worth of detention! Do not look at me like that, Potter, you deserve it! And if you ever-”

" _Hem, hem.”_

" _Yes?_ " McGonagall spat, closing her eyes as though praying for patience.

“I think she deserves rather more than detention; I think she ought to face a ban.”

This was grossly unfair! The fucking bitch! Was it not enough that I was cutting my own fucking hand open?

Draco, clearly enjoying the show, snickered quietly on the ground next to me, and I really felt like kicking him very hard. I was being punished for it anyway.

The stupid toad only went and banned me from Quidditch for life! AND she confiscated my Firebolt!

All because of that fucking white-blond haired ferret.

God, I hated him.


	22. Fancy A Ride?

One thing that was keeping my mind off the Quidditch ban was Dumbledore’s Army. Due to Umbridge’s pathetic teaching skills, we decided to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts ourselves.

Seeing as I was already brilliant at everything, I was naturally the teacher.

We met up in secret in the Room of Requirement. Anyone that wanted to retaliate against Umbridge, and her stupid Ministry decrees could join. No stinking Slytherins though; they all seemed to like Umbridge.

I had just wrapped up a pretty good DA session (if I may say so myself) when I was strutting down a corridor, heading back to the common room.

“Where have you been sneaking off to, _four eyes_?”

Shit. I really should look at the Marauders Map more often. And then maybe I would not have to put up with encounters like these.

“Malfoy, if you’re going to use insults, at least give them a bit of originality.” I sighed impatiently as he stepped out in front of me, bringing me to a halt. He had appeared seemingly out of nowhere. I was beginning to suspect that he just hid around the castle all day waiting for me to pass by.

“Oh, I’ve got more up my sleeve, believe me,” he smirked, his eyes glinting. “Only, I was saving them for the right occasion.”

“Look, Malfoy, as pleasant as this is, I need to get moving. Now please kindly step out of my way.”

He didn’t move.

“I’d prefer it if you made me.” His smirk grew wider. “After all, I know just how much you like to get your hands on me.”

“I’ll fucking break your nose again if you don’t move right now, Malfoy,” I spat angrily. I could have just walked around him, but my stubbornness would not allow it.

Draco flinched; irritation flickered across his face. I could tell he did not like being reminded of the time he was beaten up by a girl.

“Missing your broomstick, _Potter_?” He sneered, changing the subject. “I heard it makes great firewood - all it would take is one word from me about your late-night shenanigans.”

 _Shit_. What did he know? I looked into his eyes, but they did not give anything away.

He moved his face closer to mine, his lip curling. I caught a whiff of his cologne and my pulse suddenly quickened. He whispered in my ear, his voice husky, “If you want, Potter, I can always lend you _my_ broomstick. What do you say? Fancy a ride?”

I felt my face grow instantly hot as the breath caught in the back of throat. I cursed myself; I did not want him to know the effect he was having on me.

But it seemed he knew full well. He moved his mouth from my ear. I shivered as I felt his lips brush ever so lightly along my jawline, moving nearer down towards my mouth.

When his lips reached mine, he paused ever so briefly, his eyes piercing mine, _waiting_. But I did not move away; instead, my heart was going crazy and I was breathless with anticipation.

And then he kissed me.

I did not hesitate to respond. I felt as though a dam had burst open inside of me, and I suddenly wanted him, wanted this kiss so much. He grabbed me, slamming me against the wall, deepening the kiss with an urgency I too, felt. Our tongues hungrily explored each other’s mouths, fighting to be the dominant one. Hands grabbed frantically at one another, pulling the other in, not being able to close the space between us enough.

I couldn’t believe anyone could ever make me feel this way. I couldn’t believe _he_ could. And that’s when I realised:

I was kissing Draco. I was _fucking_ _kissing_ Draco Malfoy.

Son of a Death Eater.

With all my strength, I put my hands on his chest and pushed him hard away from me. He staggered backward and looked at me, momentarily confused. I leant back against the wall, breathless.

“This was a mistake,” I said, my chest heaving as I tried to get my breath back.

“Didn’t feel like it to me,” Draco said, getting his smirk back.

“I hate you. I don’t kiss you.” I snarled.

Draco gave a deep throaty laugh. “Sure, Potter. You just keep telling yourself that.”

He sauntered towards me, once again closing the gap.

“I don’t need to have kissed a lot of girls, Potter,” he growled in my ear, making my legs go weak at the knees. “To know when a girl is enjoying it.”

He lowered his lips, brushing them against my neck. I closed my eyes, feeling dizzy from the pure pleasure of it, a small moan escaping my lips.

“Tell me, Potter,” I could feel his hot breath on my skin as he spoke, sending wild tremors along my nerves. “Did _pretty boy_ ever get you this hot?”

Anger exploded in my chest. My eyes flew open and I shoved him hard away from me.

“How fucking _dare_ you,” I said, my whole body shaking in the effort of trying to keep my voice steady. “How fucking _dare_ you speak of him to me.”

Draco immediately righted himself, not even looking slightly ashamed.

“Oh, come off it, Potter,” he scoffed, straightening his tie. “We both know you loved it.”

Hatred ripped through me. I felt like spitting right in his arrogant face.

Instead, though, I stormed off, throwing him the most disgusted look as I pushed past him, needing to be as far away from him as possible.

Because I loathed to admit it, but deep, _deep_ down... Draco Malfoy had not been wrong.


	23. Hagrid's Treat

I was shaken up. 

The next morning, I wearily walked down to breakfast. I had not got much sleep at all. I kept playing the kiss over and over in my head, not being able to believe what had happened.

I just could not understand how someone I loathed so much was capable of making me feel _that_ way.

Especially so soon after Cedric. Sweet, kind Cedric who had treated me with nothing but respect.

But the truth was, Cedric had never made me feel quite like _that_ , and the guilt of it was driving me crazy.

I needed to get the ferret out of my head. And fast.

As I stepped into the bustling Great Hall, my eyes automatically went straight to the Slytherin table to where a pair of glittering grey eyes instantly met mine. 

I could have cursed myself. I felt horrendously flustered and it must have shown because a huge smirk pulled at his lips.

I quickly looked away, angling my face so he could not see my continuing blush. I would not give that prick the satisfaction.

Slamming my butt down at the Gryffindor table (making sure my back was to Draco, of course) I heaved a frustrated sigh.

“You alright, Etta?” Ron asked thickly through a mouthful of bacon.

“No.” I said sulkily. “My life is now detentions with Umbridge; putting up with dicks like Malfoy; and No. Sodding. Quidditch!”

I violently spooned scrambled egg onto my plate.

“What’s Malfoy done now?” Hermione sighed wearily, offering me a sympathetic look.

I froze, not being able to meet her eye.

“He exists, ’mione,” interjected Ron, spraying food across the table. “That’s all the git needs to do.”

I gave a discreet sigh of relief at Ron’s interruption, but that feeling did not last.

“Well, you’re just going to have to learn to put up with it,” Hermione said brusquely, removing a piece of chewed up bacon from her hair. “First lesson of the day is Care of Magical Creatures. With the Slytherins.”

Fucking fantastic.

*****

Hagrid turned up to class with a half-eaten cow flung over his flipping shoulder.

And _then_ he informed us that the lesson was going to take place in the Forbidden Forest.

“Bit more sheltered!” Hagrid called happily, oblivious to all our horrified faces. “Anyway, they prefer the dark.”

“What prefers the dark?” 

I winced at the familiar voice, but then quickly felt amused at the clear panic it. 

“What did he say prefers the dark - did you hear?” Draco persisted, looking around fretfully.

I could not help but loudly snort, the temptation to make fun of him overriding my plan to act as though he simply did not exist.

Draco’s head whipped round, his scowl landing on me as I stood sneering at him with my arms crossed over my chest. A look flashed in his eyes, but he did not say anything.

“Ready?” Hagrid said cheerfully. “Right, well, I’ve bin savin’ a trip inter the Forest fer yer fifth year. Thought we’d go an’ see these creatures in their natural habitat. Now, what we’re studyin’ today is pretty rare, I reckon I’m probably the on’y person in Britain who’s managed ter train ’em.”

“And you’re sure they’re trained, are you?” Draco said, the panic in his voice even more pronounced. “Only it wouldn’t be the first time you’d brought wild stuff to class, would it?”

“Feeling a little scared, Drakie-poo?” I drawled, my eyes glinting maliciously at him. “Worried it might have a taste for _ferrets_?”

Anger flitted across his face, but before Draco could retort, Hagrid had already started making his way towards the forest, the students around us following.

I threw him one last smirk before heading off to join Ron and Hermione.

“You know, you shouldn’t wind him up like that,” Hermione warned darkly as I linked my arm in hers.

“Why not?” Ron asked incredulously. “The git deserves it.”

“Like he wouldn’t do the same to me,” I muttered. “I’ve spent the last five years having to put up with that prick's taunts.”

I glanced back over my shoulder. Draco was walking a bit further behind with Pansy. She was chattering away about something, but he did not seem to be listening - his eyes were busily boring into me instead. He looked pissed off.

“He’s dangerous,” Hermione lowered her voice. “His family is way too connected with _You-Know-Who.”_

“I’m not scared of Malfoy,” I said indignantly. I did not add that I was - however - _petrified_ of how he made me feel.

Deep into the forest now, Hagrid stopped, threw the dead cow on the ground, and made a funny sort of calling sound.

To my horror, from between the trees, came one of those ugly skeletal horse things that had been pulling the carriages.

“Why doesn’t Hagrid call again?” Ron asked, looking around, confused.

I noticed that most of the class were also looking around as though they could not see anything either.

“Now... put yer hands up, who can see ’em?”

I gingerly raised my hand, looking to see who else was. Only Neville.

“Yeah... yeah, I knew you’d be able ter, Etta,” Hagrid said seriously. “An’ you too, Neville, eh?”

“Excuse me,” Draco said in a sneering voice, “but what exactly are we supposed to be seeing?”

“Thestrals” Hagrid said proudly. Several students started to scream as the Thestral bit a huge chunk out of the dead cow. Must have looked odd to them, I realised.

“An’ the only person who can see Thestrals,” Hagrid continued, “are people who have seen death.”

A sudden coldness crept over me as my mind took me instantly back to that night in the graveyard. _Cedric_.

Murmurs erupted throughout the class and I could feel everyone watching me curiously as I looked down firmly at my feet, trying to blink back the tears that had begun to blur my vision.

When I finally lifted my head, I found myself unwittingly meeting Draco's eyes. An odd expression was on his face.

I looked away, his eyes reminding me too much of his father’s.

I shivered.

The solemn mood was quickly interrupted by Professor Umbridge, who decided that now was a great time to inspect Hagrid’s teaching.

She annihilated him, poor Hagrid. Draco and the rest of the Slytherins looked as though Christmas had come early.

Git.


	24. Your Wonderful Precious Father

“I need a volunteer,” Snape announced during the last Potions class before Christmas. “-to fetch some supplies from the greenhouses.”

I sank down low in my seat as he held out a long piece of parchment containing a never-ending list of ingredients. He looked expectantly around the class.

Everyone averted their gazes. The last time somebody volunteered to fetch ingredients for Snape from the greenhouses, they had ended up in the hospital wing for a week with a skin infliction that made them resemble a giant bogey.

Plus, it was absolutely fucking freezing outside.

“ _Malfoy_!” Snape shouted. Draco had had his back turned, whispering furtively to Crabbe about something.

I smirked with glee as Snape strode across the room and slammed the piece of parchment down on the desk in front of him.

Scowling, Draco surveyed the list in disgust. “Professor, surely I can’t be expected to get all of this on my own?”

Snape sighed, sweeping back to the front of the class. “Very well, Malfoy. You may choose someone to escort you.”

Draco’s eyes instantly found mine, glinting in delight. _Oh no_. _Oh fucking no._ I knew exactly what was coming next.

“Potter,” Draco drawled, his upper lip curling. “Potter can come with me.”

“No.” I said sharply. “Choose someone else. I’m not going.”

“Miss Potter,” Snape said coolly. “You may consider such tasks to be beneath you, but this is _my_ class and when you are in _my_ class, I expect you to do as you’re told. _Now_ _go_.”

Ron gave me a sympathetic look as I angrily stood up, noisily scraping my chair back.

I did not want to be alone with that git. I had managed to avoid having to have much to do with him in the weeks that followed the kiss.

My face burning with anger, I stormed past Draco’s desk where he stood, smirking. I heard him chuckle softly under his breath as he stepped up to follow me.

Walking as fast as I could along the hallways, I could hear Draco striding along behind me, trying to keep up. I did not need to turn around to see his smirking, smug face - I could _feel_ it.

“Slow down, Potter,” he drawled lazily, finally catching up as he drew up alongside of me. “What’s the big rush?”

“I just want to get this over with.” I snipped, eyes straight ahead as I strode on, refusing to look at him.

“Well, I thought we could take our time,” he said, and he abruptly grabbed my arm, halting me in my tracks.

“Get your fucking hands off me, Malfoy,” I glared, pulling my arm aggressively out of his grip.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night,” his eyes glinted as he leered down at me. “In fact, if I remember, you couldn’t get _your_ hands off _me_.”

His fingers trailed down the length of my arm and I shuddered in revulsion.

“Like I said, that was a _mistake_!” I spat in sheer disgust. I moved away from him, walking hurriedly up the hallway again.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Potter,” Draco said smoothly, quickly matching my pace again. “People don’t kiss people like that by _mistake.”_

This fucking git did not know when to bloody quit!

“Do you honestly think I want anything to do with _you_?” I laughed derisively. “The son of a _Death Eater_.”

Draco froze, coming to an immediate standstill.

“You shut the fuck up about my father, Potter.”

Anger flared in my stomach and I could not help but stop to whirl round and face him.

His eyes were cold with fury as his lip slowly curled into a full-on sneer.

“What - ashamed are you?” I snarled, striding back angrily towards him, “I would be too if _my_ father worked for a pathetic monster who tortures and kills innocent people.”

I had never seen Draco look so furious, but I did not care - it gave me satisfaction if anything. I now closed the gap completely between us, pushing my face up in his.

“Your father watched,” I hissed menacingly, “as Voldemort Crucio’d me _over_ and _over_ again whilst Cedric lay dead beside me. I was a fourteen-year-old girl, Malfoy. I didn’t have a wand to defend myself. And your father, your wonderful _,_ precious _father_ , just stood by and laughed.”

Draco flinched, but said nothing. I took a step back from him, throwing him a repugnant look.

" _That’s_ the kind of father you have.” I spat, before turning my back on him and continuing furiously up the hallway.

In stony silence, Draco kept back a few paces behind me as we continued towards the greenhouses.

“ _Well_?” I said stoutly once we had arrived outside in the freezing cold. I waited for Draco to consult the list.

Without saying anything, Draco marched past me into Greenhouse One. I followed him inside, watching as his eyes raked over the plants.

“We’d better start with the Belladonna.” He muttered, tossing me a pair of gloves.

We worked side by side in a stony silence, picking the shiny black berries and throwing them into a bucket. The atmosphere between us was ice cold but I stubbornly refused to break it.

We had been working for about ten minutes when Draco suddenly spoke.

“I didn’t know.”

I looked across at him, startled that he had broken the silence. I noticed his jaw was clenched, and he was staring intently down at the berries in his trembling hands.

“What?” I asked. He looked up and his grey eyes met mine. There was a strange look about them that I had not seen before.

“I didn’t know they had used the Cruciatus Curse on you.” He said quietly.

I swallowed, not knowing how to respond. Because, as I looked into his eyes, I could suddenly see what was so strange about them.

For behind that steely cold stare, there was the unmistakable flicker of sadness.


	25. Draco's Date

I did not get much of a chance to mull over mine and Draco’s greenhouse excursion, because that very night I had a dream.

I dreamt that I was a giant snake and that I had bitten Ron’s dad.

It had felt so real, and my scar hurt so much, that I ended up in Dumbledore’s office in the middle of the night, yelling at him to get to the Ministry to save Mr Weasley’s life.

Everyone thought I was barking mad, but as usual, I was right.

So, we ended up going to Sirius’s where we hung out for the remainder of the Christmas holidays. It was not exactly festive, but at least Mr Weasley was going to be okay all thanks to me and my superior mind.

He was ever so grateful to me when we went in to visit him, as he should. But as I looked at him, I kept getting vivid flashbacks of the crunch his ribs made beneath my teeth. It was all rather unsettling, not to mention disgusting.

So, I excused myself and decided not to mind my own business as I wandered round the wards with Ron and Hermione, staring at people and listening in on their delicate ailments.

We bumped into Neville Longbottom visiting his parents and discovered that Draco’s auntie had tortured them into insanity. Well, actually I already knew this little fun fact, but I had made a promise to Dumbledore to keep it under wraps.

And, as a witch of my word, I watched mutely as Ron called over to Neville and proceeded to put him on the spot.

As a result of this whole Mr Weasley incident, Dumbledore sent Snape of all people round to ruin my Christmas by insisting I was to take Occlumency lessons with him upon my return to Hogwarts. No arguments.

Why the fuck would I want to close my awesome mind to its awesome powers? I was starting to suspect that Dumbledore was just jealous.

This Christmas fucking sucked.

*****

“Remedial Potions? You’re taking _Remedial Potions?_ "

Zacharias Smith had cornered me after lunch in the Entrance Hall, asking about when the next DA meeting would be. Thanks to Snape’s Occlumency lessons, I had not had the time to arrange another meeting since returning from Christmas.

“Good Lord, you must be terrible. Snape doesn’t usually give extra lessons, does he?”

Who the fuck does this jumped-up little prick think he is?!

“Shall I jinx him? I can still get him from here,” Ron glared as Smith strode away in an annoyingly buoyant fashion.

“Forget it,” I said dismally. “It’s what everyone’s going to think, isn’t it? That I’m really thick.”

Occlumency was fucking torture. Snape literally invaded my entire mind - my most _private_ thoughts. The humiliation was unreal. I had been so desperate to conceal the one thing that I did not want him to see, that I had ended up letting him see absolutely everything else.

I would never, in a million years, let him see that kiss with Draco. I would sooner stab my own eye out with a Basilisk fang.

“You are weak, Potter!” Snape spat at me when I had fallen to the floor of the dungeon yet again. “You are nothing but a weak, pathetic know-it-all, just like your father was!”

He had just penetrated a particularly awful memory of the time when I was eight years old and Dudley had lifted my skirt up in the middle of the school playground, showing off my old grey holey knickers.

Fucking pervert.

My cheeks flamed red with fury and humiliation as I staggered back up to my feet.

“Call me whatever you like, but _don’t_ talk about my father like that,” I snarled, narrowing my eyes with loathing. “Not when he’s not here to defend himself.”

Snape’s beady black eyes glared back at me. “Get out of my sight, Potter.”

“ _Gladly_ ,” I spat, storming straight for the door.

I was still shaking in fury by the time I reached the Entrance Hall. There seemed to be a lot of commotion going on, but I could not see what due to a thick wall of students blocking my view. I could just make out a sound as though a woman was shrieking.

Someone chuckled next to me. I turned to see Draco Malfoy looking gleefully over the shoulders of the students in front of us.

“Enjoying the show, Potter?” He drawled, his silver eyes glittering in amusement as I bounced up and down on my feet, trying to see.

“Well, I would let you know if only I could see what was going on.” I muttered, knowing already I would not like this one bit if it amused Draco.

“Come on then, short arse,” he said, forcibly grabbing my hand and pulling me with him through the crowd.

I was too shocked to protest. All I could do was apologise to the disgruntled students who had been sent flying by Draco as he barged them out the way with his shoulders. He did not let go of me until we reached the clearing in the middle of the Entrance Hall.

“There,” He said, dropping my hand to gesture proudly at the scene in front of us.

My jaw fell open. Professor Trelawney was standing with her wand in one hand and an empty sherry bottle in the other, looking utterly mad. Two large suitcases lay askew on the floor beside her. Professor Umbridge was stood at the foot of the marble staircase, enjoyment stretching her toadlike face.

“You c- can’t sack me!” howled Trelawney, as tears streamed down her face from behind her enormous lenses. “I’ve b- been here sixteen years! H- Hogwarts is m- my h-home!”

“It _was_ your home,” Umbridge smiled as Trelawney sank, sobbing uncontrollably, on to one of her cases, “until an hour ago, when the Minister for Magic countersigned your Order of Dismissal. Now kindly remove yourself from this Hall. You are embarrassing us.”

Draco sniggered next to me as I watched on in disgust.

I angrily rounded on him whilst McGonagall swooped in and rescued Trelawney.

“How can you enjoy watching something so _cruel_?” I spat. I was tempted to add something about him taking after his father, but I held my tongue.

“Oh, come on, Potter,” Draco smirked, “Have a sense of humour - the old bat had it coming.”

" _Ugh_ ,” I sneered, giving him a revolted look as I turned to head to the Great Hall for dinner. Students had started to disperse around us.

Draco grabbed my arm before I could escape.

“Wait - aren’t you going to thank me?”

“For _what_?” I spluttered. My _god_ , he actually looked _hurt_.

“You wanted to see the show, so I got you there. Front row seats and all,” he said, clearly not being able to help the smirk which twitched automatically at his lips. “If you thank me, I might even take you out again sometime.”

“This wasn’t a _date_ , Malfoy,” I said incredulously.

“It could be, if you ask nicely,” he winked at me. He actually _winked_.

I was about to tell him to go pitch himself off the Astronomy Tower when Pansy fucking Parkinson came screeching into hearing.

" _Drakie_!” She shrieked, wrapping her arms around his torso.

She suddenly noticed me standing there and her demeanour changed instantly. She let go of Draco, straightening up to face me.

“What are you lurking around for, _Potter_?” She sneered. “Haven’t you got some rock to go crawl under?”

I smiled sweetly at her. “Actually, I was just about to turn your boyfriend here down for a date.”

Pansy looked at Draco in horror and I was amused to see a pink tinge rise in his normally pale cheeks. This, too, did not go unnoticed by Pansy. Her face turned puce with fury.

He began to splutter pathetically as she continued to glare daggers at him.

“Well, I must dash,” I said cheerily, using this opportunity to take my leave, “that rock won’t wait forever. Toodles!”

And with a little wave, I walked away, feeling better than I had done in ages.


	26. Caught

I finally managed to squeeze some DA meetings into my already seriously busy life.

Tonight, I had gotten most of them to conjure Patronus’s, although there was still the odd dimwit who could not do it. And some of the girls just thought they were there to look pretty. 

Merlin, the people I have to deal with in this thankless task of saving everyone's butts.

Then, out of nowhere, Dobby appeared; wide eyed with terror and visibly shaking. I eventually managed to get it out of him that Umbridge and her army of twats had discovered the meeting place and was on her way.

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?” I bellowed to the gormless lot gaping at me. “ _RUN_!”

Everyone scrambled for the door at the same time. When I eventually got out, I hurried up the corridor, my heart pounding in my desperate attempt to get away.

“AAARGH!”

Someone had grabbed me from behind a tattered old tapestry and violently pulled me into a hidden chasm.

It was Draco Malfoy.

He pressed his body hard against mine, slamming me right up against the wall, his hand gagging my mouth to stop me screaming. His other hand pinned both my wrists together painfully above my head, preventing me from attacking.

“Not so fast, Potter,” he smirked as I struggled to free myself, “you _have_ been a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

His glinting grey eyes, only inches from mine, widened in utter gleefulness. He did not remove his cold hand from my mouth, and I continued to strain against his hold. I hated to admit it, but Draco was pretty damn strong.

“Stop struggling, Potter, and I’ll remove my hand. Besides, if you scream, she’ll find you anyway.”

The git had a point. Reluctantly, I surrendered to his hold.

He slowly lowered his hand, leaving my body heaving as I gasped for air.

“There, that wasn’t so difficult was it?” He smirked, tucking a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.

My chest rose and fell angrily against his as I fiercely looked him in the eye.

“What the _fuck_ do you want from me, Malfoy?” I gritted; my jaw clenched. His other hand still had my wrists painfully pinned above my head.

“I think you know what I want,” he whispered, gently trailing a single fingertip down the side of my face. “I want _you_ , Potter.”

He brushed his lips against mine, making me shiver. A wave of longing ripped through my stomach and I could not help but let out a soft groan as he caught my lower lip between his teeth and gently pulled. He paused, his eyes meeting mine and I saw the unmistakable glint of amusement in them. Releasing my lip, he moved his mouth to my ear, and I trembled, feeling his hot breath tickling against my skin.

“Sorry about this, Potter.” He whispered, not sounding sorry at all.

Before I could work out what was happening, he had released my wrists, grabbed me roughly by the arms and pushed me back out into the corridor.

“Hey, Professor - PROFESSOR! I’ve got one!”

To my horror, Umbridge came bustling round the far corner, breathless but wearing a delighted smile.

“It’s her!” she said jubilantly at the sight of me gripped in Draco’s hold. “Excellent, Draco, excellent, oh, very good - fifty points to Slytherin! I’ll take her from here... come on, Potter!”

Draco thrust me forwards as she seized my arm in a vice-like grip, beaming broadly.

“You hop along and see if you can round up any more of them, Draco,” she continued. “Tell the others to look in the library - anybody out of breath - check the bathrooms, Miss Parkinson can do the girls’ ones - off you go - and you,” she added in her softest, most dangerous voice, “you can come with me to the Headmaster’s office, Potter.”

I glared furiously at Draco who simply smirked at me before sauntering away.

That fucking jumped-up little prick.

It turned out that we were betrayed by one of our own DA members, Marietta Edgecombe. Fucking bitch.

Served the snitch right when her face got covered in ugly boils. Not that you could tell much of a difference. She started blubbering pathetically about being afraid of her mother losing her job or some shit.

WELL AT LEAST SHE HAD A FUCKING MOTHER!

Because of her, Dumbledore went on the run from the Ministry after taking the fall for me - good man - and now we were faced with flipping Umbridge as a headteacher. Fan-bloody-tastic.

And then, of course, there was Draco Malfoy.

I was absolutely fuming. I could not believe that I had let him get to me like that - _AGAIN._ It was all I could do not to wipe the smug smirk off his face at breakfast the next morning.

“I hate him,” I seethed, furiously stabbing a sausage with my fork. “I completely and utterly _hate_ him.”

“We know,” Ron said biting into his toast. “But don’t worry, he will get what’s coming to him one day - him _and_ his rotten family.”

“Speaking of which,” Hermione said, rifling through the Daily Prophet, “did you hear that Bellatrix Lestrange has escaped from Azkaban?”

There was a loud clattering sound as I dropped my fork on the table. ” _What?_ " I spluttered.

“There was a mass breakout,” Hermione continued, “they think Sirius is ‘rallying’ them up.”

“Christ alive. Fudge really is a buffoon.” I muttered, rolling my eyes.

I glanced over at the Slytherin table where Draco seemed to be regaling a story that had the lot of them in stitches; no doubt telling them about how he had cock blocked himself the previous night. The prat.

I wondered if I should be worried about his aunt. She sounded a bit unhinged. I studied him, trying to see if he shared any physical similarities with her. 

"Will you quit staring at him, Etta!" Ron blurted out, making me startle. "Anyone would think you've got a crush!"

I laughed a bit too loudly.

As if.


	27. Another One Bites The Dust

Ugh. Draco Malfoy had become insufferable.

The first thing Umbridge did in her new role as headteacher was to appoint her little gang of Slytherins to become her bitches and named them the ‘Inquisitorial Squad’.

And guess who was made Head Bitch?

“I really do have the power to put you in detention now, Potter, so you’d better start behaving yourself,” Draco said, sidling up behind me in Potions as I rifled through the supply cupboard.

He simply loved to thrust his new shiny badge in my face at every given opportunity.

“Get bent, Malfoy,” I spat, refusing to look at him.

“My, my, my, no need to be so rude. Unless you _want_ me to put you in detention,” he smirked. “After all, I know just how much you _love_ to be alone with me.”

He moved so close behind me now that I could smell the distinct waft of peppermint on his breath mingled with the faint fragrance of expensive cologne.

“ _You want me, Potter_ ,” he hummed softly as the tickle of hot, uneven breaths whispered against the top of my ear. “ _I can see it in your eyes_.”

I noticed he had placed his hand on the inside of the cupboard and so I slammed the door shut, making him yelp as he swiftly pulled his arm back.

“You little bitch,” he snarled, cradling his fingers in his hand.

I threw him an unapologetic look before striding back to my cauldron.

“Blimey, that was cold,” Ron chuckled as I dumped the ingredients on the desk and began furiously hacking at them with my knife.

“He was winding me up,” I gritted through my teeth, nearly chopping my finger off instead of the frog’s leg.

It was not just Draco Malfoy winding me up though. Snape’s Occlumency lessons were becoming unbearable. I now had another memory of Draco I wanted to suppress which made it virtually impossible to block anything else. It meant I had to endure another chapter and verse from Snape about what a weak and pathetic individual I was.

And when Fred and George decided to do a spectacular early exit, I was sorely tempted to join them. Except that I had OWLs and if I wanted to become an Auror, then I needed to do well. Ugh. My fucking life.

But it was during one of my exams when some serious shit happened.

I had a vision.

Basically, Sirius was going to fucking die if I did not do my hero thing ASAP.

But before I could act, fucking Umbridge and her _Inquisitorial Squad_ caught us. The glee on Draco’s face as Umbridge handed him my wand made me want to scream. I refused point blank to tell Umbridge that I was on a mission to save my godfather.

“The Cruciatus Curse ought to loosen your tongue,” Umbridge said, quietly. That evil fucking bitch!

“No!” Hermione shrieked. “Professor Umbridge - it’s illegal!”

But like that toad gave a shit. Instead, she was eyeing me with a nasty, eager, excited look on her face, measuring me up for a spot of torture. She raised her wand.

“Professor!”

Umbridge’s arm froze mid air and we all turned to look at Draco in surprise. He had jumped off the windowsill where he had been languishing, a look of slight horror upon his face.

" _What,_ boy?” Umbridge snapped, sounding annoyed at the interruption.

He did not seem to know what to say, his eyes flicked to mine, and I was startled to see panic in them. If I did not know any better, I would say he cared.

“Y-You can’t.” He stuttered, not sounding like Draco at all. “If Fudge finds out, you’d no longer be able to be our headteacher.”

His eyes kept darting nervously between me and her raised wand.

But the bitch didn’t care!

“What Cornelius doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” she chimed brightly whilst pointing her wand at different parts of my body, apparently trying to decide which area would hurt the most.

I could do nothing but brace myself for it. I was never going to give that bitch the satisfaction of trying to run away from her.

It was Hermione who saved me in the end. She told Umbridge some cock and bull story about there being a weapon in the Forbidden Forest.

Long story short - she got taken by Centaurs and Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, and I flew to the Ministry on Thestrals. That was fun.

And then we found ourselves in the Department of Mysteries, in the room where I had seen Sirius tied up in my vision.

Except he was not there.

 _Doh_.

I did find a prophecy with my name on it though, so it wasn’t that big a waste of a trip.

There was also, however, a whole bunch of Death Eaters there to greet us. Including Draco’s delightful father and auntie.

Lucius was his usual charming self and Bellatrix... well, Bellatrix was just bat shit crazy.

Apparently, they wanted to get the prophecy. They were so desperate that they were quite happy to try and kill us all to get their hands on it. But they messed with the wrong kids.

They struggled, oh they struggled! In the end we ended up in this strange room which held a peculiar type of archway which was hung with a tattered black veil. Lord knew what that was about.

And then the Order of the Phoenix showed up! Yay! Including my beloved godfather! Yay!

But then... oh, shit. That bitch Bellatrix only went and killed him. I watched in horror as she blasted a spell right into his chest. One minute he was here and the next he had toppled backwards, through the veil and... gone.

Bitch.

To be honest, I could not understand it. It was not even a Killing Curse that Bellatrix had blasted at him and yet going through that veil had somehow meant he was dead?!

The wizarding world was really confusing at times.

I refused to believe he had died. But Lupin, being ever the optimist, insisted.

“There’s nothing you can do, Etta-”

“Get him, save him, he’s only just gone through!”

“-it’s too late, Etta.”

“We can still reach him-”

“There’s nothing you can do, Etta... nothing... he’s gone.”

See what I mean? What a Debbie Downer.

*****

In the end I thought the most sensible option was to go after Bellatrix myself to avenge my godfather’s death.

This did not turn out well as I ended up face to face with fucking Voldemort again. Merlin! At one point he even possessed my body which hurt quite a lot. But Dumbledore came and saved me. He really is a great guy. I hope he sticks around for a long time.

The Death Eaters all got sent to Azkaban thanks to our little road trip, including Lucius Malfoy. This, obviously, did not go down well with Draco, who seemed to think it was all _my_ fault that his father was a murderous thug.

He had been waiting for me outside the Gryffindor common room. As soon as I stepped out of the portrait hole, a pair of hands grabbed the front of my robes and I was slammed roughly against the wall.

“What the fuck, Malfoy?” I yelled, after the back of my head connected painfully against the cold hard stone.

“Thanks to your little outing the other night, _Potter_ ,” Draco hissed, his pale face full of fury as his cold grey eyes narrowed in hatred, “my father is now in Azkaban!”

“Good,” I spat, “e _xactly_ where he belongs.”

A muscle twitched dangerously at the corner of his eye, and for a split second I thought he was going to hit me.

“You think you’re so fucking special, Potter,” he snarled instead, his nostrils flaring in anger. “But you just wait. I’ll have you. You can’t land my father in prison-”

“Your _father_ tried to _kill_ me!” I yelled, making him wince. “Your _aunt_ murdered my _godfather_!”

He did not say anything. His eyes seemed to be searching mine for something. I could feel his hot, fierce breaths on my face as we stood there in a charged silence, his body still pinning me against the wall.

“You tried to stop Umbridge from torturing me,” I whispered, looking up into those hypnotic grey eyes.

“I- I wasn’t...” he trailed off, his breathing slowed, and confusion flickered in his eyes.

He suddenly let go of me, backing away. My hand flew to my chest trying to calm my furiously thudding heart.

“Just stay away from me from now on, Potter,” he said quietly, finally tearing his eyes away from me.

And with that, he turned and stormed away.


	28. Draco's Detour

So apparently, I am ‘The Chosen One’ now. Dear god if it was not already enough that I was ‘The Girl Who Lived’.

It seemed the world finally believed me that Voldemort was back. It only took them witnessing him literally prancing around the Ministry singing ′ _I’m back bitches_!′ to make them realise.

Also turns out that Sirius left me his house. Excellent, I am now a homeowner at the sweet age of sixteen. Unfortunately, it also meant that I had inherited that cretin, Kreacher; but hey ho, I still got a mint piece of property out of it.

Dumbledore took me on a little trip to try and lure a man called Horace Slughorn to come and teach at Hogwarts. Naturally, my mere presence persuaded him. Dumbledore’s hand looked rather mangy. I hope it is nothing serious. Then he dropped me at The Burrow where I got to spend the remainder of the summer. Yay.

We went to Diagon Alley to fetch our school supplies. The whole place had gone to shit. Only one place remained happy and lively - Fred and George’s joke shop. And that, of course, was all down to my unstoppable generosity.

But before we went there, Hermione, Ron and I went to Madam Malkin’s to get some new robes fitted.

Just like the first time I had ever entered this shop, Draco Malfoy was already in there, getting his own robes fitted, his unmistakable voice drifting out from behind a rack of expensive looking robes.

“... not a child, in case you haven’t noticed, Mother. I am perfectly capable of doing my shopping _alone_.”

He then stepped into view, dressed in a handsome set of dark green dress robes, admiring himself in the mirror. It was a few moments before he noticed us, but then piercing grey eyes suddenly locked into mine as he spotted me reflected over his shoulder.

There was a sudden charge in the atmosphere, and I felt my face grow hot. The last time I had seen him he had been so angry with me.

His eyes instantly narrowed as they roamed over my companions, resting upon Hermione.

“If you’re wondering what the smell is, Mother, a Mudblood just walked in.”

Hatred instantly pooled in my stomach and I found myself reaching angrily for my wand at the exact time as Ron.

There was a commotion as Madam Malkin lost her shit and demanded that Draco’s _mummy_ come and sort it out.

“Put those away,” Narcissa said coldly to me and Ron. “If you attack my son again, I shall ensure that it is the last thing you ever do.”

I just could not help myself.

“Really?” I scoffed, boldly taking a step forwards and gazing into the smoothly arrogant face that resembled her son’s. “Going to get a few Death Eater pals to do us in, are you?”

Madam Malkin squealed and clutched at her heart. The dramatic cow.

“Really, you shouldn’t accuse- dangerous thing to say- wands away, please!”

But I refused to lower my wand, causing Narcissa to smile unpleasantly at me.

“I see that being Dumbledore’s favourite has given you a false sense of security, Henrietta Potter. But Dumbledore won’t always be there to protect you.”

I looked mockingly all around the shop.

“Wow... look at that... he’s not here now! So why not have a go? They might be able to find you a double cell in Azkaban with your loser of a husband!”

Draco lunged at me. But unfortunately for him he stumbled over his fancy pants robes. Ron laughed loudly.

“Don’t you dare talk to my mother like that, Potter!” he snarled, angry pink dots appearing on his cheeks as he glared at me.

“It’s all right, Draco,” Narcissa said, placing a hand upon his shoulder. “I expect Potter will be reunited with dear Sirius before I am reunited with Lucius.”

Lights dotted my vision as I raised my wand higher, but Hermione kept trying to grab at my arm.

"Etta, no!" she moaned. "Think... you mustn't... you'll be in such trouble..."

"Yeah, like you'd dare do magic out of school." Draco sneered.

I looked up, our eyes connecting. My pulse quickened as I shakily lowered my wand. His face was hard with anger, but his eyes... there was something else...

Madam Malkin, pretending that nothing was happening, started tugging at the hem of Draco’s sleeves.

“I think this left sleeve could come up a little bit more, dear let me just-”

“Ouch!” Draco bellowed, slapping her hand away, “watch where you’re putting your pins, woman! Mother - I don’t think I want these anymore-”

He pulled the robes over his head and threw them on to the floor at Madam Malkin’s feet.

“You’re right, Draco,” his mother said, throwing a contemptuous glance at me, “now I know the kind of scum that shops here...”

They strode towards us, Narcissa Malfoy sniffing her nose in the air as she passed. Draco’s cold eyes briefly met mine again, his expression hard and unreadable, before he disappeared out of the door.

*****

We were in Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes, when I spied Draco hurrying up the street alone, glancing over his shoulder suspiciously. It looked as though he had finally given _Mummy_ the slip.

My stomach was burning with curiosity; I _needed_ to know where he was going, and I _needed_ to know what he was doing.

So, after persuading a reluctant Ron and Hermione to come with me, we followed him under my amazing Invisibility Cloak.

We ended up in Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley. Using Ron’s Extendable Ears, we overheard Draco asking Borgin to tell him how to fix something. It was all rather peculiar.

I spent the rest of the holidays pondering the meaning of Draco’s behaviour. It really got on my friends’ nerves, actually. According to them, I would not shut up about him.

But of course, I would not - I was _obsessed_. He was all I talked about, all I _thought_ about.

I had a theory that he had become a Death Eater to replace his father, but that was shot down instantly by Ron and Hermione.

Boy, won't they be sorry when it turns out I was right.

And despite Draco’s warning to stay away from him, I was determined to ignore it.

*****

When the first day of September rolled around once again, I was ready to do some serious sleuthing.

For I _would_ find out just what that sly ferret was up to, and I _would_ make sure he does not fuck with me.

Because no one fucks with Henrietta Potter.

Especially not Draco Malfoy.


	29. The Eavesdropper

He had not even turned up to do his prefect duties on the train, Ron informed me on our way to Hogwarts. That was weird. That was not like Draco at all.

So, like the true stalker my dead dad would be proud of, I whipped out my Invisibility Cloak and went and spied on him, keen to prove my Death Eater theory correct.

I mean, _surely_ he will be bragging about it loudly to his friends whilst he shows off his new badass ink job. I know I would.

A tiny thrill zipped through my stomach as, through an amazing series of convoluted incidents, I found myself in his compartment, staring down from the luggage rack right above his head.

My smugness at my own clever plan soon turned to fury, however, when he lay down across two seats, nestling his head in Pansy’s lap. I felt this strange sort of unexpected fury inside of me as I watched her fingers stroke the sleek blond hair off Draco’s forehead. I had to stop myself from reaching down and slapping them violently away.

“So, Blaise,” Draco drawled lazily, smirking as Pansy continued to fawn all over him, “what did Slughorn want?”

“Just trying to make up to well-connected people,” Blaise Zabini answered, “not that he managed to find many.”

Draco’s smirk instantly fell.

“Who else had he invited?” he demanded.

“McLaggen from Gryffindor.”

“Oh yeah, his uncle’s big in the Ministry,” Draco said.

“-someone else called Belby, from Ravenclaw-”

“Not him, he’s a prat!” spat Pansy.

“-and Longbottom, Potter and that Weasley girl,” Blaise finished.

Draco sat up very suddenly, knocking Pansy’s hand aside. For some reason this pleased me to no end.

“He invited _Longbottom_?”

“Well, I assume so, as Longbottom was there,” Blaise said indifferently.

“What’s Longbottom got to interest Slughorn?”

Blaise shrugged.

“Potter, precious _Potter_ , obviously wanted a look at the _Chosen_ _One_ ,” Draco sneered. And there it was! I knew Draco would be riled by my new title. “But that Weasley girl! What’s so special about her?”

“A lot of boys like her,” Pansy said, I noticed she was watching Draco out of the corner of her eyes for his reaction. Pah! - Needy bitch. “Even you think she’s good-looking, don’t you, Blaise, and we all know how hard _you_ are to please!”

“I wouldn’t touch a filthy little blood traitor like her whatever she looked like,” Blaise said coldly. I was tempted to hex his stupid arse right there and then. Pansy, on the other hand, looked pleased. Draco sank back across her lap and allowed her to resume the stroking of his hair. I felt my stomach twist.

“Hogwarts. What a pathetic excuse for a school.” Draco sneered. “I think I’d pitch myself off the Astronomy Tower if I thought I had to continue on for another two years.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy said indignantly, ceasing her stroking of Draco’s hair.

“Well, you never know,” Draco smirked. “I might have - er - moved on to bigger and better things.”

Blaise let out a derisive snort.

“Amused, Blaise? We’ll see just who’s laughing in the end.”

The train was slowing down. My heart hammered as everyone started to rise and grab their luggage.

The compartment emptied but Draco, however, paused.

“You two go on,” he said dismissively to Pansy and Blaise as they hovered by the door. “I’m just going to check something.”

Yes, this was it! I was positive that this was the moment I had been waiting for, that he was going to pull up his sleeve and check to make sure his tat had not gotten infected or some shit.

However, once Draco had locked the door and shut the blinds, I had not expected to suddenly find myself on the floor with a nasty gash on my forehead.

Draco stood, glaring down at me as I lay sprawled at his feet.

“You didn’t hear anything I care about, Potter.”

“I know you’re up to something, Malfoy!” I spat, scrambling to get to my feet, trying not to wince in pain in front of him. “And I swear I’m going to find out just what it is.”

He reached out, grabbing the front of my robes, and slammed me hard against the wall.

“I thought I told you to stay away from me, _Potter_?” he hissed venomously, his face so close that I could feel his hot angry breaths and detect the faint odour of cologne that was becoming quite familiar to me.

My heart thudded maddeningly in my chest as his steely grey eyes glared into mine. Gone was the cheeky glint that I had seen so often in the last few years; gone was the look of smug amusement that he seemed to reserve solely for me. They were now hard and cold and gave nothing away.

“What’s going on, Malfoy?” I whispered.

I saw something flicker in his eyes, and for a mere fraction of a second, his expression softened, and I thought he was going to confess everything. But then the steeliness returned just as quickly as it had gone.

“It’s none of your God damned business!” He spat, his face screwing up in anger as his fingers dug deeper into the flesh of my upper arms. “You had your chance, remember, Potter? We could have made a good team. But you chose _them_. And now you’re going to live to regret it.”

“I’m not afraid of you, you can’t threaten me, Malfoy,” I said daringly, despite the pain his continuing grip was causing me.

“Well you should be, Potter,” he snarled, moving his lips against my ear, “you should be _very_ afraid.”

I struggled against him, eventually managing to lift my hands to place on his chest and, with all my might, pushed him furiously away from me. He staggered backwards, an angry hiss escaping his lips.

“What the _fuck_ is your problem?” I yelled, panting furiously.

He did not say anything, just stood there glaring at me. Scoffing in disgust, I angrily snatched up my Invisibility Cloak and went to storm past him, towards the door.

Before my hand could reach the handle, however, long slender fingers suddenly snapped around my wrist, pulling me back.

“ _What the fu_ -” I began but was cut off when my lips were suddenly being crushed by his.

I was too shocked to respond.

At first.

His hand went to the back of my head as he forced the kiss, trying desperately to get my lips to move with his. In his urgency, he bit my lower lip, making me gasp. His tongue forced its way in, hungrily exploring my mouth. There was an explosion in the pit of my stomach and I suddenly could not resist him anymore. He groaned as my lips finally responded, and my tongue, too danced hungrily with his.

The cloak fell from my grasp as our kiss picked up the urgency. My hands were in his hair, pulling him in, desperate to get closer. He picked me up by the waist, slamming me down on a nearby table. My legs wrapped around him, causing a low growl to vibrate in his throat as I squeezed. He pulled his mouth from mine, trailing his lips hungrily down my jaw until he reached my neck, where he began attacking my skin with little urgent nips and sucks that caused me to shiver and moan against him.

The fire was raging inside of me and I wanted more. I wanted _him_.

His hands, which had been gripping my waist, began to move upwards, fingers kneading and stroking my sides as though he could not get enough of me.

And, just as he lifted his head to hungrily connect his lips back to mine, a loud whistle blasted in the distance, making us both freeze.

Draco looked up, panting. A surprised look crossed his face as though he only just realising that we were still on the train.

“ _Shit_ ,” he muttered, hastily pulling away from me.

Without another word, and without looking at me, he turned to pick up his bag, and strode briskly out of the compartment.

I stared at the now shut door, breathless and stunned.

What the fuck just happened?!


	30. Felix

“Where’ve you- _blimey,_ what’ve you done to your head?”

I had just walked into the Great Hall, super late, cringing as all eyes turned towards me. Focusing on Ron and Hermione I had scurried over, praying that my face did not look as hot as it felt.

I looked at Ron, confused. My _head_?

“It’s bleeding!” Hermione gasped.

My hand flew up to my forehead, wincing as I touched the gash caused by my fall from the luggage rack. I could feel a warm sticky wetness. Christ, I must look a right state. Didn’t stop Draco sticking his tongue down my throat though.

“Are you okay, Etta?" Hermione pressed. "What happened? Did you fall?"

"Yeah, something like that." I muttered, keeping my head low as I threw myself heavily into the seat they had saved for me. "I’m okay though.” I quickly added, seeing the looks of horror upon Ron and Hermione’s faces.

I had to try extremely hard not to glance over at the Slytherin table. I did have to wonder just what exactly was going through Draco’s mind though. One minute he was threatening to kill me and the next he was devouring me as though I was some kind of delicious ice cream sundae.

Not that I was complaining.

Thankfully, I had missed the Sorting so I could get straight into eating. I was flipping starving. It had been quite the day. Tucking into a Yorkshire pudding, I told Ron and Hermione about what I had overheard in the Slytherin compartment. I avoided telling them about what happened after though. I got the feeling they would not approve.

“He’s definitely up to something, I’m telling you.” I said, stabbing my fork in Ron’s startled face.

“I don’t know, Etta,” Hermione sighed, letting her cutlery clutter down on her empty plate. “It sounds like he was just showing off for Pansy.”

I sneered at the mention of that pug. I recalled how she could not take her hands off him and I felt that wave of fury in my stomach again.

It occurred to me just then that Draco had known I was there, watching. Had he done it on purpose? Had he been trying to make me _jealous_?

I was suddenly desperate to turn my head towards him. It took all my effort to focus my eyes firmly on my plate.

“He looks different,” Ron said. My head shot up and I followed his gaze.

 _Shit_. I found myself staring right at Draco. Ron was right, he _did_ look different. All the Slytherin’s around him were talking and sniggering or whatever it was that they did. Except for Draco. He was looking morosely down at the food on his plate, not touching it. He looked _sad_.

Suddenly, as if sensing my gaze, his head shot upwards and my stomach flipped as our eyes connected. I quickly looked away, feeling humiliated that he had caught me staring.

“Blimey, see the look he gave you, Etta?” Ron guffawed, rubbing his hands eagerly together as pudding appeared at the table.

“What look?” _Damn_ _it_! I could feel the heat return to my cheeks. This was not cool.

“I dunno,” Ron said thickly as he stuffed banoffee pie in his mouth. “It was like he was hungry or something.”

Hermione gave a look of disgust as soggy bits of pie sprayed across the table from Ron's mouth.

My own pie lay untouched on my plate. My heart was racing in my chest as I stared at it. Thankfully, Ron did not seem to see the significance in what he had said. But _I_ did.

I thought about what had happened on the train and how it had made me feel. I recalled the way his hands had roamed my body and how his lips had felt on mine. And I found myself wanting more, wanting _him_.

The truth was Draco Malfoy was not the only one who was hungry.

*****

I had to try and put our encounter out of my mind. Draco Malfoy was my enemy. And I was pretty convinced he was a Death Eater - even if no one else believed me. All the signs pointed to it.

Thanks to Slughorn being the new Potions teacher, I was able to take it at NEWT. Unfortunately, even though only a dozen others had progressed to this level, I still found myself sharing the class with Draco Malfoy.

This made it maddeningly difficult to avoid him.

Both Ron and I entered the first class late. As soon as I stepped inside, I found my eyes immediately landing on a pair of piercing grey ones. My pulse immediately quickened. This time, Draco looked away first. I watched him shift uncomfortably on his stool as Pansy whispered something in his ear and giggled. I felt that familiar burning sensation in my stomach.

Trying to ignore it and _them_ , I attempted to concentrate on the class. As if it wasn't bad enough that I had to sleep in a cupboard for the first eleven years of my life, I also had to have a shitty second-hand Potions book. 

" _Someone has scribbled all the fuck over it_!" I roared when Hermione asked what I was complaining about. Ron just sat in a smug silence as he leafed through his scribble-free copy.

Turned out though, they knew what they were scribbling about. I only went and won a vial of Felix Felicis. I was treated with glares from everyone, but I did not care; I got Liquid Luck. Get in.

Hermione was especially thunderous, and even outright accused me of cheating. Jealous cow. 

But she still did not look half as pissed off as a certain white-blond haired Slytherin. Draco was positively _glaring_ at me as he noisily packed away his Potions equipment. I could sense the hatred coming off in him in waves. 

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF YOUR STUPID POTION SUCKS!" I shouted after him when he purposefully slammed his shoulder into me on his way past my desk. 

He flipped me the middle finger before vanishing through the door. Fucking git. 

"Hmmm," Ron pondered, tapping a finger to his chin. "He clearly wanted that luck. I wonder why?"

"Oh, don't encourage her!" Hermione sniped haughtily, throwing her books in her bag. "Her obsession is already borderline crazy!"

Ignoring her, I continued to stare at the door where Draco had just disappeared through. Ron was right, he really _had_ been determined to get that lucky day.

And I was determined to find out why.


	31. Ladies First

Dumbledore decided to give me some private lessons. About Voldemort.

I got to look into his past and shit. Which was not all bad due to Tom Riddle being a bit of a spunk in his heyday.

Pity about the murderous tendencies though.

It made me kind of nervous that Dumbledore had suddenly wanted to share so much with me. It was like he was dying or something and passing on all his wisdom and knowledge before he carked it.

Anyway, not only did I have to deal with that, but I also had Quidditch and, seeing as I was the captain (obviously), I had to hold try-outs.

Now, I had a little problem. Both Ron and a seventh year called Cormac McLaggen wanted to try out for Keeper. Cormac was an annoying creep who evidently fancied himself rotten - but he was notoriously good on a broomstick. Ron, who was quite frankly shit at Quidditch, was my best friend and laughed at my jokes. Clearly, he was the better choice.

But I could not choose Ron without looking as though I was playing favourites (which I was.)

Luckily, Hermione helped me out of this little conundrum by Confunding Cormac and making him look crap at try-outs.

So best friend wins the spot. Nepotism at its best.

*****

“Aw, bloody hell...”

We had just entered the Three Broomsticks, sheltering from the freezing cold, to find Ginny and Dean sitting together.

“Oh, honestly, Ronald. They’re just holding hands...” Hermione tutted.

We watched as Ginny and Dean started sucking on each others faces like a pair of leeches at a half price blood sale.

“Woah,” I snickered impressively, “get it, Ginny.”

“I’d like to leave.” Ron said brusquely, starting to turn around.

“You’re not going anywhere, Ron!” I said angrily tugging at his arm. “I’m cold and you offered to buy me a Butterbeer.”

“That happens to be my _sister_!” Ron said, flabbergasted.

“So?” Hermione cried. “What if she looked over here and saw you snogging me? Would you expect her to get up and _leave_?”

Ron blinked speechlessly.

I rolled my eyes, storming past them to get to the ladies. Those two needed to get a bloody room and sort out their unresolved sexual tension - _fast_.

As I reached the ladies, I nearly went flying arse over tit when someone flew out of the door and crashed right into me.

" _Watch where the fuck you’re-”_ I started to yell but froze mid sentence when I realised that I was looking up at Draco Malfoy.

For a shocked second, we just stared at one another. His grey eyes widened, almost fearfully, and by his shaky, uneven breaths, I would have said something had seriously spooked him.

Probably walked in on McGonagall with her knickers round her ankles or something.

“What were _you_ doing in _there_?” I demanded, jabbing my finger furiously from his chest to the ladies sign.

“I- I...” he stuttered, his eyes darting over my shoulder towards the exit.

Suddenly, without warning, he pushed me aside so forcefully that I lost my balance and nearly toppled over.

“WELL FUCK YOU THEN, MALFOY!” I bellowed to his retreating back before he disappeared into the crowded bar.

I mean, what a rude git.

*****

“It’s nothing to do with you, Leanne!”

We were walking back to the castle, having given up on Hogsmeade. It was too cold, and I was getting fed up with Ron’s continued surliness over the fact that his little sister had beaten him to first base.

Up ahead, Katie Bell and her friend, Leanne seemed to be bickering over like a pair of immature toddlers over some package.

And then the freakiest shit happened.

Let’s just say that Katie Bell won’t be trying on necklaces again anytime soon.

“I’m telling you, it was Malfoy,” I said later, when we had discovered the package had been passed onto her during a toilet trip in the Three Broomsticks’.

“Oh, just give it a rest about Malfoy, Etta.” Hermione sighed impatiently. “It truly is getting tiring.”

“HE CAME OUT OF THE FLIPPING LADIES!”

“Are you sure?” Ron asked, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, Malfoy maybe a lot of things, but a _killer_?”

Oh, these complete buffoons. Why did I hang out with them?

Angrily, I stormed up to my dormitory and got out the Marauders Map. I wanted to see what Draco was doing and where he was going.

But he was nowhere to be seen. I could not understand it. I spent ages looking over it, trying to find the name I so desperately longed to see.

I was still sprawled over my bed searching the map intently when Hermione came to bed hours later.

“Please don’t tell me you’re looking for Malfoy?” Hermione sighed, climbing under her bedcovers.

“When it turns out he is a Death Eater and was actually behind the cursed necklace then you’ll all be sorry,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her from over the top of the map.

“Oh, suit yourself,” Hermione huffed, pulling her maroon drapes around her bed.

I sighed, lowering my eyes back down to the map. And that is when I saw it. _Draco Malfoy._ The little footsteps next to his name were walking along the seventh floor.

What the fuck was he doing wandering around the castle at this time of night? And why couldn’t I find him before now?

I allowed my finger to trace his steps as it followed his path back all the way down to the dungeons. I continued to stare at the footsteps long after they had finally come to a rest in the Slytherin dormitories; my finger gently stroking the ink of his name.


	32. Deck The Halls

Oh my life. Ron and Hermione had fallen out. Well, actually, Ron had fallen out of Hermione’s heart and into Lavender Brown’s mouth.

Hermione was pretty cut up about it, to be honest.

And it did not help that Ron just kept parading her about as though he had discovered a brand-new limited edition flavoured lollipop.

It made it pretty easy to not to feel bad about neither of us inviting him to Slughorn’s Christmas party.

“Serves him right,” Hermione sniffed, her head held high as we made our way to Slughorn’s office for the festivities. “He was always so _jealous_ that we were in the Slug Club and he wasn’t!”

The second we arrived at the party, we were approached by Cormac, Hermione’s date. Both Hermione and I shrank back in disgust as the lumbering idiot tried to put his arms around us in some kind of attempt at a group hug.

“Ladies! Ladies! Aren’t you both looking gorgeous!” He leered down at us, practically drooling. Yuk. “Potter, you’re looking exceptionally ravishing in that red dress tonight.”

And to my revulsion, he roughly slid his hand down my hip.

“Touch me again, and I’ll fucking kill you!” I hissed furiously, thrusting the heel of my hand very hard in his chest making him stagger backwards.

I turned to Hermione who was looking at me speechlessly. “Good luck.” I muttered, before taking my leave to stride over to where the buffet table stood. I had little to no sympathy for her. She only asked this creep just to make Ron jealous, knowing full well what a loathsome cockroach he was.

This party was shit. I could tell that already. I wish I had not bothered getting dressed up for it - so much effort for a bunch of pretentious prats. Slughorn even had Neville dressed up in a ridiculous white suit, acting like some kind of house-elf. I was glad I didn’t bother getting a date for this.

Professor Slughorn had cornered me and was bragging to Snape about how great I was at Potions. I wish he’d shut up. I was only doing well because of that book with all the scribbles. And the way Snape looked at me made me think he did not find my newfound brilliancy believable either.

Thankfully, we were interrupted by a commotion coming from the door.

A very _interesting_ commotion indeed.

Filch dragged a certain Slytherin in by his ear, presenting him to us, saying he found him lurking in an upstairs corridor.

“Take your hands off me you filthy squib!” Draco yelled, pulling himself free of Filch’s grip, looking furious.

He angrily tried to straighten out his suit, pausing only when he realised I was standing right in front of him. Grey eyes momentarily locked onto mine. My stomach gave an involuntary flip.

“I’d like a word with you, Draco,” Snape demanded, rudely interrupting our moment.

“Certainly... _Professor,”_ the resentment in Draco’s voice was unmistakable, and I watched as he allowed Snape to escort him from the party.

Without thinking, I followed.

I wanted to know why Draco was lurking around the castle after hours again. He was acting very strange indeed and I was not about to let him get away again without an explanation. Oh no.

I made it out of the party in time to see them disappear behind a door in the corridor up ahead.

Excitement mounted in my stomach as I swiftly made my way to it. I was so close to discovering Draco’s secret.

Pressing my ear against the door, I could just make out their voices.

“Aunt Bellatrix has been teaching you Occlumency, I see. What thoughts are you trying to conceal from your master, Draco?”

“I’m not trying to conceal anything from _him_ , I just don’t want _you_ butting in!”

My heart pounding, I pressed my ear harder into the door. This was it!

“I swore to your mother I would protect you. I made the Unbreakable Vow, Draco-”

“Looks like you’ll have to break it, then, because I don’t need your protection! It’s _my_ job, he gave it to me and I’m doing it. I’ve got a plan and it’s going to work; it’s just taking a bit longer than I thought it would!”

Without barely a second’s warning, the door flew open. I jumped back in horror as Draco froze, his eyes widening in shock at seeing me standing in front of him.

Why the fuck didn’t I use the Invisibility Cloak?!

Without a word, he snatched out a hand and grabbed my arm, hastily pulling me up the corridor before roughly pushing me inside another empty classroom.

“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at, Potter?” he hissed, slamming the door shut as he glared angrily at me.

“I know it was you,” I spat. “I know you gave Katie Bell that necklace that day I caught you coming out of the ladies.”

His eyes narrowed as his lip curled into a sneer. I could not help but notice just how tired he looked, the bags under his eyes looking prominent in the moonlight casting over us through the windows.

“You know nothing, Potter.” He growled; his voice dangerously low. He turned his back on me, reaching the door.

“You’re working for him, aren’t you?” I called out, before he could leave. I was desperate for some answers. “I heard what Snape said to you, ′ _your master’_.”

He froze, turning slowly back to face me. I noticed his fists clench by his sides, his silver eyes glinting dangerously into mine.

“I’m warning you; _drop it_ , Potter. _Or else_.”

“Or else _what_ , Malfoy?”

Not taking his eyes off mine, he slowly removed his wand from his pocket, his lips twitching tauntingly.

Oh, bring it on!

I too, removed mine, which I had tucked down the side of my dress.

I was strongly reminded of our second year during Duelling Club. We had both stood like this then too, ready to fight, right before he conjured that snake on to me.

But this was different. It was so tense, it felt as though you could literally slash a sword through the atmosphere; my heated, uneven breaths matching his own.

“Ready, Potter?”

I nodded, not daring myself to speak. In a neatly skilful and quick motion, my tongue swept across my upper lip. His eyes widened a mere a fraction.

“After three, then,” he commanded, looking down his arm at me as he pointed his wand at the ready. “One... two... three-”

It happened so quickly.

I will never forget the sound our wands made as they simultaneously cluttered to the floor. Or the hard slam of his body against mine as his lips crushed my lips, greedily tearing my mouth apart.

And I remember being filled with such a burning intense desire and that, in that moment, I could not see, think, feel, _want_ anything other than _him_.

Our hands were everywhere, mine tugging at his hair and clawing at his shirt; his, urgently reaching around my back, making me buck and shiver as his fingertips clamped roughly into the exposed skin where my dress did not cover.

A longing whimpering moan vibrated in my throat and I inwardly cursed myself as he momentarily stilled at the sound. Our eyes locked together; his, amused, yet dark with wildness. My heart beat frantically in my ribcage as I felt a satisfied smirk twitch at his lips.

Feeling hot with anger and humiliation, I went to pull away, but in a deft movement, his hands tightly gripped my upper arms, forcing me up hard against him.

“I don’t think so, Potter,” he growled before he continued to bruise my lips.

I did not argue because _fuck_ , he tasted so good. Instead, my hands flew back to his head, my fingers clawing and scraping at his scalp as I hastened to deepen the kiss.

And then he was lifting me off the floor and shoving me against a wall.

He pulled his mouth from mine, moving his lips instantly to my neck, making me shiver and buck against him. My fingers ran frantically through his hair as he licked and nipped at my skin, his hands roaming every inch of my body he could find.

I was drowning in him. I did not want this feeling to stop, and yet I wanted more.

But when I felt cold air hit my skin as he yanked down my zip on the side of my dress, I froze.

 _“S-stop_ ,” I gasped weakly as he desperately tried to tug it down past my shoulders. I was not wearing a bra and I was starting to freak out about how fast this was going.

But he did not seem to listen and continued kissing my throat, still attempting to pull my straps down.

“ _Draco,_ stop!” I gritted more fiercely as I struggled to place my hands between us. I finally managed to flatten them against his chest, and, with great effort, I pushed.

He staggered backwards, and I steadied myself against the wall, gulping in lungsful of air.

Draco just stared at me, his expression a mixture of hunger and disappointment as he tried to steady his breaths. His hair was tousled all over the place and his shirt crumpled where I had been clawing at it.

I found it difficult to meet his eye.

“I’m sorry,” I said, hastily trying to zip my dress back up. I suddenly wanted to get out of there and away from him as fast as possible. This was all starting to feel extremely fucked up.

He did not say anything, but I could feel his eyes on me as I bent down to retrieve my wand. Feeling suddenly horrendously awkward, I attempted to walk past him to get to the door.

Fingers snapped around my wrist, violently stopping me in my tracks. Startled, I looked up. Grey eyes burned into mine, his pale, pinched face void of his usual sneer.

“What’s going on here, Potter?”

I just shook my head, not knowing how to answer.

Sighing heavily, he slowly unfurled his fingers, dropping my arm.

Turning away from him, I swiftly left, leaving the Slytherin standing alone behind me.


	33. The Hufflepuff And The Slytherin

Draco Malfoy angrily sprinted down the steps to the dungeons. _That bloody Potter._ He could not work her out. She was always sticking her stupid nose in where it was not wanted. Every time he turned around, she was there, breathing down his neck as usual. One minute she would be accusing him, the next... well.

He had not realised it was possible to find somebody so infuriating and yet at the same time _want_ them so much.

And _oh_ , he wanted Potter.

He had wanted her ever since the night of the Yule Ball. He had fantasised about her in that red dress so often, he felt like he knew every inch of her already. Except of course, that is all it was: a fantasy.

But then every now and then she gave him a _real_ piece of her. Like tonight. And all it did was draw him in even more, and he thought he would go insane with want and longing.

Yes, he was crazy about her. But this was not a good thing. He had to be careful. So, so careful.

Because he was a Death Eater.

And Henrietta Potter was his enemy.

*****

I could not understand why Draco Malfoy made me feel the way I did.

I felt like I was supposed to hate him, but I could not. I thought back over our past and of how much he had once infuriated me. It did not seem possible to me that this was the same boy that had me _wanting_ him.

So, I continued to watch him closely.

He looked so detached and lost in his own thoughts all the time. I could see the effort it took him to converse with his peers; the self assured, confident, cocky git I had once known had gone.

“Etta?”

I jumped, quickly averting my eyes from the Slytherin table as I turned to Ron in annoyance.

“ _What_?” I spat, irritably stabbing a sausage with my fork.

“You’re staring at him again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said indignantly, desperately trying to ignore the heat that had risen to my face.

Ron just gave me an ambiguous raise of his eyebrows.

“As I was asking,” he coughed, piercing a carrot, “are you going to say yes?”

Ugh. _This_. Valentine’s Day was coming up and for some awful reason, Hogwarts was going to have a ball. I had the misfortune of being asked to it by Zacharias Smith. I had not known what to say so I kind of left the Hufflepuff hanging.

My eyes automatically darted back to the Slytherin table. Draco had now been joined by Pansy who was draping her arms all over him. I felt that familiar twist in my gut.

I forced my eyes to flick over to the Hufflepuff table where Zacharias was seated. I was horrified to see he was already staring at me, wriggling his eyebrows in what he probably thought was a seductive move.

“Ugh, yes. Well, I suppose I have no other choice.”

I did, of course. The truth was, though, I did not want to turn up alone knowing that Draco would be there with Pansy.

*****

Hermione, Ron, and I were sitting glumly at our table surrounded by pink and red. We were all trying to avoid our dates.

“Won-Won! There you are!”

Ron visibly shuddered as Lavender came crashing out of the crowded dance floor wearing a vulgar pink creation. He seemed to have gone off her of late and I could not blame him to be honest. She was the worst.

Hermione stifled a giggle as Ron was helplessly dragged away onto the dance floor. “Serves the git right,” she said with a twinkle in her eye.

It was my turn next. Zacharias Smith tapped me on the shoulder.

“You haven’t danced with me yet.” He pouted, looking like a fucking moron in his white and pink tuxedo.

I had been hoping to avoid this, but at that moment, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Draco being led onto the dance floor by Pansy. My stomach gave a slight twist as his grey eyes met mine. He looked tired and fed up, and utterly resigned to his fate as Pansy pulled him into the throng of dancing bodies.

“Okay, then” I said, suddenly standing up, much to the shocked expressions of both Zacharias and Hermione.

I practically ran, refusing to except Zacharias’ hand as he attempted to grab at mine. So, he instead settled on clutching pathetically at my elbow.

As soon as my feet touched the dance floor, I started to move with the music, slapping Zacharias’ hand off my backside. My eyes darted around, searching for that familiar white-blond hair. But the dance floor was thick with bodies, including my lecherous date who kept trying to push his body against mine at any given opportunity. I kept backing away, moving further into the centre, trying desperately to shrug him off. In the process, I accidentally stepped on something, nearly tripping over.

“Ow! Watch where you’re lumbering about, freak!”

I turned around, only to be met by the scowling pug face of Pansy Parkinson. She had one hand on her hip as her other arm draped possessively around Draco’s neck. My eyes instantly flew to his and a frisson of electricity passed between us.

“What’s going on?” Zacharias barked, grabbing at my waist from behind. This time, I did not shrug him off. Instead, I kept my eyes on Draco and watched as his own eyes narrowed on the Hufflepuff claiming me.

“Nothing Pansy’s fat feet can’t get in the way of,” I sneered.

Pansy sneered back before taking her hand off her hip and turning to face her date. “Come on Drakie, let’s not waste anymore time on these losers,”

I was horrified to see his arms snake around her back as she pushed her body up against his. The burning feeling inside my stomach flamed so fiercely, I thought I was going to explode.

Draco’s eyes met mine over Pansy’s head and I quickly looked away, knowing I could not conceal the jealousy in them.

I turned my back on him and practically threw myself into Zacharias’s arms, much to the Hufflepuff’s delight. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the stale sweaty odour. I tried not to shudder in revulsion as his hands found their way to my back, pulling me in against his hard broad body.

I turned my head and was pleased to see the fury upon Draco’s face as he glared at me. He was _jealous._

The music changed beat, and a slow, sultry song started to play. Couples around us started kissing, although I was pleased to see Draco and Pansy were not, although not from lack of trying on Pansy’s behalf.

But then Zacharias wanted some action and I panicked as he kept trying to move his slimy bulbous lips close to mine. I desperately tried to angle my face away; the thought of kissing him actually making my skin crawl. Dancing with him was bad enough.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He drawled in my ear after I flinched away for the thousandth time at his unwanted advances. “I thought you were interested?”

Stale breath mingled with body odour filled my nostrils, and I actually thought I was going to vomit.

“It’s just dancing, Smith, that’s all,” I said, trying not to cringe, wishing this song would hurry up and end.

“Baby, girls who dress like this don’t want to just dance,” he hissed, and then he grabbed my butt so tight that I gasped.

The fucker took the opportunity to pounce on my mouth. I tried frantically pulling away as he attempted to shove his fat tongue past my lips. But he was stronger, aggressively gripping the back of my head, trying to force it.

My pulse accelerated as I tried kicking and hitting, but his strength was no match against mine; and, just as I thought about letting his tongue in just so that I could bite it, he was suddenly not there.

I blinked in confusion. Draco had grabbed him and punched him in the face, causing him to sprawl ungainly to the floor.

“SHE’S NOT INTERESTED, YOU BASTARD!”

Everyone around us had stopped dancing as they all looked towards the scene. Draco’s face was pinched in fury as he glared down at the Hufflepuff, his clenched fists trembling in anger.

Zacharias clumsily picked himself up, shooting both Draco and me enraged glances,

“Bitch,” he spat at me, before storming off into the crowd.

I looked to Draco in disbelief, realising what he had just done. He glanced up at me, his steely grey eyes saying nothing. And then, without another word, he strode away, barging past a furious Pansy as he did so.

“Blimey, are you alright, Etta?” Ron asked as he drew up beside me, Lavender simpering at his side.

I looked over to where Draco had disappeared, my heart fluttering furiously against my ribs.

“Yes,” I answered, a great warmth spreading over me. “Yes, I think I am.”


	34. Thanking You

I wanted to see him.

I left the Valentine’s ball immediately after the Zacharias incident, and fled straight to my dormitory where I whipped out the Marauders Map and searched frantically for his name.

But I could not locate him anywhere. Not in any of the corridors, not in the Slytherin dormitories. I glanced down at the Hall where most of the footsteps were, but I could not see him there either.

_Where the fuck had he got to?_

I perused the map for hours; even after Hermione had returned, rolled her eyes, and crawled silently into bed.

And then, as if out of nowhere, there he was. _Draco Malfoy_. The tiny footsteps next to his name were walking along the seventh floor. Doing some quick, awesome calculations, I worked out that if I left immediately, I could catch him before he made it down to the dungeons.

Glancing at Hermione’s bed to make sure she was not about to jump back out and do a Molly Weasley, I grabbed my Invisibility Cloak and tiptoed out of the dormitory and through the empty common room.

Slipping the cloak over my head, I quietly made my way through the castle, making sure to keep an eye on the map so as not to lose Draco.

I finally caught up with him in the hallway above the Entrance Hall. He was coming towards me. I came to a halt and held my breath as I waited for him.

As soon as he drew up close enough, I made my move. I snatched his arm and pulled him into a small alcove in the wall. He stumbled around in shock, unprepared for my attack.

“What the _fuck_?” Draco yelled, looking around with wild panic in his eyes.

I hastily removed my cloak, pressing my hand over his mouth to quieten him. “Shush you idiot or you’ll get us both in trouble.”

His eyes widened in surprise before glancing downwards to where my hand was still on his mouth. I was suddenly aware of the feel of his lips against my fingers and I quickly removed my hand, cursing myself as the heat rose to my cheeks.

" _Potter_ ,” he hissed angrily, “what the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing?”

I looked up at him, my mouth opening and closing stupidly, realising I had no idea myself.

His grey eyes glittered impatiently into mine. ” _Well_?”

“I- I just wanted to say thank you,” I stuttered. Jesus, I was starting to feel like an idiot! I mean, I had literally come out in the middle of the night specially to see him, just to say, ‘thank you’. Pathetic!

He stared at me curiously, the Adam’s apple bobbing prominently in his throat. I suddenly felt extremely awkward and wished he would just say something... _anything;_ even if it was to tell me to fuck off.

And when he did finally speak, the words that left his lips were not what I was expecting at all.

“I didn’t like the way he was touching you.”

My heart fluttered at the soft expression on his face, he looked almost vulnerable and the urge to reach up and press my lips against his suddenly overwhelmed me.

“I didn’t like the way Pansy was touching _you_ ,” I whispered instead, not quite believing what I was saying.

His lips twitched in amusement, and I found myself feeling a spark of irritation that even now he was _smirking_.

“Surely you’re not _jealous_ , Potter?”

Ugh, he just had to go and fucking ruin it.

“Well, if you’re going to be like that...” I said spikily, moving to step away from him.

Long white fingers clasped around my wrist, tugging me back so violently that I found myself losing my balance. He caught me at once, pulling me up against his chest. I could feel the steady beat of his heart and hear the shallow uneven breaths upon his lips.

“She doesn’t hold a candle to you,” he growled, inching his lips tantalisingly close to mine. “No one does.”

I looked up at him startled, surprised at this bold admission.

“What’s going on here?” I whispered, the intensity of his stare and the closeness of him making me giddy.

“ _This_ ,” he answered, his eyes darkening as he stroked the back of his fingers down the side of my face, the effect of his touch causing me to shiver.

And that’s when his lips closed on mine.

An instant groan vibrated in the back of his throat as he pulled me in, wrapping me tightly to his body, fingers tangling in my hair at the back my head as he deepened the kiss.

He tasted so fucking _good_ and I suddenly could not get enough of him. Responding eagerly to his kiss, I gripped his upper arms, his shirt bunching up beneath my fingers, wanting to just rip it off him and run my hands all over his body.

I felt an overwhelming need to touch and devour him. I wanted every piece of him, but more than that, I wanted him to want _me._

And, given the hardness straining beneath his trousers, there was little question of that.

I found myself wanting to get more of a reaction out of him, wanting to hear him groan again. So, I rolled my hips, causing my pelvis to grind over him.

His reaction was instant, his whole body went rigid as he sucked in a hiss through his teeth, his fingers gripping me a fraction tighter.

Our eyes briefly locked as our lips came to a temporary halt. He threw me a searching look, as though trying to work out if I had done that on purpose.

The glint in his eye told me that he knew, and he was ready to play that game too. We resumed the kiss with a renewed ferocity, and the next thing I knew he was shoving me up against a wall.

I curled a leg around his hip as he pinned himself between my thighs, his fingers tightly gripping my waist. He was literally _throbbing_.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moaned, pulling his mouth away from mine; his lips trailing an urgent, bruising path along my jaw, pausing only when he reached the sweet spot below my ear which he began to suck and nibble until I could no longer contain the small whimpering moan that had been laying in wait at the back of my throat.

As soon as the noise escaped my lips, he stilled, and I could feel his lips pull into a satisfied smirk against my neck, clearly _loving_ the effect he was having on me.

He lifted his head, his dilated eyes holding a hint of amusement as he rested his forehead down upon mine.

“We could go on like this, Potter,” he drawled, running his hands slowly up and down the length of my body, making me buck and shiver against him, “and risk getting caught in the middle of the corridor... _or_ ,” he added, pausing to move his lips against my ear, “we could take this somewhere a little more _private._ ”

Looking back, I wished I could have just silently nodded and let him fuck me senseless.

But I was Henrietta Potter and therefore too arrogant to even put my sex life before my incessant need to be proved fucking right.

“How about the Room of Requirement?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light as I ceased this golden opportunity.

He froze. My heart thudded noisily beneath my chest as his eyes searched mine questioningly.

“How did you know where to find me tonight?”

I shrugged, attempting to look as innocent as possible. “Just luck, I guess.”

His eyes narrowed. I could tell he did not believe me in the slightest.

“It’s two o’clock in the fucking morning, Potter. Have you been _spying_ on me?”

I hesitated, my mind drifting guiltily to the map folded up in my cloak.

“...no.”

“I don’t fucking believe this,” he hissed, furiously stepping away from me so that I slid back down the wall. “What did I tell you about keeping your fucking nose out of my business?”

“So, you don’t deny it, then?” I asked eagerly, forgetting about everything that had just happened. “You’re up to something in the Room of Requirement, aren't you?”

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, Potter?” he spluttered furiously, punching his fist against the wall next to my head. “Is this all just some kind of sick game to you? Me and you?”

“No!" I said, panicking, wishing I had just kept my fucking mouth shut. "Believe it or not, I'm worried about you. Something is clearly going on with you and I just want to help-"

“I knew it," he scoffed, shaking his head. "You never change, Potter.”

And before I could stop him, he turned on his heel and stormed off, leaving me leaning against the wall, horny and alone.

God he was so bloody frustrating.


	35. A Birthday Treat

Draco went back to being his usual sulky self.

I tried to apologise to him the following day at dinner, but he blanked me, acting as though he had not been shoving his tongue down my throat at every given opportunity.

“Draco, please,” I begged, as he pushed me aside to get to the Slytherin table. “Don’t just ignore me like this.”

But he refused to even look at me, storming off and leaving me stood with a baffled looking Ron and Hermione.

“Bloody hell, Etta,” Ron spluttered. “What was _that_ about?”

“I tried to thank him for getting Smith off my back at the ball, but then he went and accused me of following him about like some kind of stalker!”

“Well, he’s not exactly wrong, Etta.” Hermione tutted. “Need I remind you of Knockturn Alley? Or the time you snuck into his compartment on the train? I don’t like Malfoy much, but I can’t help but feel a bit sorry for him. It’s a complete invasion of his privacy.”

I nearly blurted out that he was not exactly complaining when he was grinding his cock against my thigh, but decidedly chose to keep that part quiet.

And then there was the time when I bumped into him walking down the corridor with two giggly girls whom I had never seen before.

I was already in a fucking grumpy mood, running late to play in a Quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

“Where’re _you_ going?” I asked, trying but failing to conceal the hurt in my voice as I gripped my broomstick tightly in my hand.

“Yeah, I’m really going to tell you, because it’s your business, Potter,” he sneered at me. “You’d better hurry up; they’ll be waiting for the Chosen Captain - the Girl Who Scored - whatever they call you these days.”

He pushed past me and one of the girls giggled. I threw her a filthy look, making her blush as she scurried after Draco and her friend. I watched, my stomach burning in jealously as they disappeared around the corner.

And then Ron’s seventeenth birthday happened.

Bursting into his dormitory, I jumped onto his bed and woke him up by singing ‘Happy Birthday’ loudly in his ear. His grumpiness soon dissipated when I shoved a present in his face.

But then, as he began stuffing chocolates in his gob, he started harping on about Romilda Vane and talking about her having his babies or some shit. Because I am so obviously brilliant, I guessed right away that the chocolates had been contaminated with some sort of love potion.

Remembering the assignment Dumbledore had set me about retrieving some important memory from Professor Slughorn, I decided to kill two birds with one stone and took him to his office.

That turned out to be a bit of a bad idea, though, seeing as Ron nearly died from drinking poisoned mead.

Although, it kind of served him right for underage drinking at nine o’clock in the fucking morning.

“Professor!” I screamed at Slughorn as Ron jerked violently on the floor of his office. “Do something!”

But the gormless idiot just stood there.

So, like the hero that I am, I leapt impressively over the sofa to Slughorn’s potion cupboard before dramatically throwing myself back down to where Ron was doing a top-notch impression of a dog with rabies and shoved a bezoar in his gob.

I knew, thanks to the scribbles in my potion book, that the kidney shaped stone was the antidote to everything. This Half-Blood Prince is awesome - I must name my child after him one day.

And, even though I saved his life and kept a constant vigil by his hospital bedside for the rest of the day, the first name that came to Ron’s lips when he regained consciousness was ‘Hermione’. Fucking charming.

“How did this even happen?” Hermione shook, dabbing at the corners of her eyes with a tissue like some kind of grieving widow.

“Slughorn’s bottle of mead had been poisoned.” I gritted darkly through clenched teeth. “It had been meant for Dumbledore, just like the necklace.”

" _What_?!” Hermione gasped as her hand clutched at her heart.

I knew what this meant. _Draco_. He had been behind the necklace - which meant he had been behind this too. I just _knew_ it.

I wanted to kill him.

Leaving Ron that night, I went straight to my dormitory and snatched up the Marauders Map.

" _Really_ , Etta?” Hermione sighed heavily as she climbed into bed. ” _Now_?”

“Yes, fucking _now_ ,” I snarled, searching determinedly for his name. “No one poisons my best friend and gets away with it.”

“But we don’t even know if it was definitely Malf-”

“Open your eyes! Of _course_ it was Malfoy!”

Finally locating him on the seventh floor, I grabbed my Invisibility Cloak and left.

I angrily tore off the cloak the second I saw him.

Draco froze, shock registering on his face as I thundered towards him like an angry rhinoceros.

" _You!_ " I spat, shaking in fury. ” _You fucking bastard! You could have killed him! You could have killed my best friend!”_

My fists flew at his chest and I hammered them as hard as I could, wanting to cause him as much pain as possible. All the anger I felt about what he had done, on top of his rejection, driving me to the brink of madness.

“Potter!” He shouted, trying to grab at my flailing arms. “Calm down, would you!”

But I refused to listen. All I could think about was Ron foaming at the mouth as I continued to wildly pelt my fists before Draco finally managed to restrain me.

“For fuck’s sake, Potter!” he roared in my face, hotly shaking my wrists. “Have you gone completely mental? What the fuck are you on about?”

“The bottle of mead,” I snarled, spitting up at his furious face, “the one meant for Dumbledore. _Just like the necklace!”_

Draco’s eyes widened a fraction, but he did not say anything. We stood there staring at one another, his fingers still painfully gripping my wrists as I struggled to contain my heated uneven breaths.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he eventually spoke, his voice quiet.

A great, overwhelming sense of exhaustion came over me, causing my body to sag heavily. I felt tired and exasperated, fed up with trying to get through the wall Draco had built around him.

“You do, Draco,” I said weakly, almost pleadingly, “I know you do.”

His expression changed, softening almost, and it was now I could see just how exhausted himself he looked. As my eyes searched his face for answers, I felt his grip loosen on my wrists and something flickered in his eyes. He opened his mouth and very quietly started to stutter. “I- I-”

But whatever he was going to say next, I never found out due to my scar exploding in pain.


	36. The Sweetest Thing

I gasped, ripping my hands out of Draco’s grip to clasp my forehead, trying somehow to stop the pain. It overtook all my senses, I could not see, hear, or feel anything but burning agony. I was convinced my head was going to split in two.

 _Kill me, kill me now_ , I thought desperately. A cold high-pitched scream sounded inside my head. He was angry. No, he was _furious_.

I was vaguely aware of someone shouting something next to me, but I could not make out what they were saying. My knees had buckled beneath me and I started to fall to the floor, but something had prevented me from landing, a pair of arms around my waist.

And then, just as quickly as it had started, the pain was gone.

“Potter, speak to me! Are you okay?”

I slowly opened my stinging eyes. Draco’s face was looking down into mine, worry etched all over his features. I realised he was holding me up, my body sagging uselessly against his.

“M-My scar,” I said weakly, still clutching at my forehead, which throbbed unpleasantly, making me feel sick.

“Here, let me look,” he murmured gently as he tugged down at my arms so that my hands fell away, revealing my scar.

I closed my eyes shut, trying not to pass out. Cool soothing lips pressed against my brow making me release a pleasant sigh. I held onto him tightly allowing the steady drum of his heart calm me.

“What happened?” He asked, his lips moving against my forehead, tickling my skin. “What does it mean?”

Slowly, I opened my eyes, lifting my head and looked around. We were no longer in the hallway but in an empty classroom.

“You were screaming,” he explained, seeing my confusion. “I was worried you might wake someone.”

He dropped his arms from around me, suddenly looking awkward as he rubbed the back of his neck.

My head spinning, I exhaustedly sank to the floor, leaning my back against the wall, holding my head in my hands.

To my surprise, he joined me. I caught a whiff of his cologne as he sank down beside me.

“Does that happen often?” He asked. I could feel his eyes on me, and blinking, I slowly lifted my head from my hands to meet his gaze. I was shocked at the amount of worry in his face. There was a warmth in his expression I had never seen before, and I had to fight the sudden urge to place my hand on his tired, gaunt cheek.

“No,” I shook my head, wincing as the action caused a pain to shoot through my scar. “But when it does it usually means- it usually means _he_ is angry about something.”

A look of fear flashed in the silver of his eyes.

“You- you mean...?” He trailed off; the name left unsaid.

" _Yes_ ,” I breathed.

I did not know why I was telling him this. If my suspicions about Draco were correct (and I’m pretty sure they were, as I’m always right), then he ought to be the last person I should confide in.

But I was tired. And he was there. And in that moment, he genuinely seemed to care.

I felt Draco shudder beside me as he let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. I gave him a long quizzical look.

“Are you _alright_?” I asked, frowning at how unwell he looked.

He let out a short sharp laugh and sniffed, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.

”You’re asking _me_ if I’m alright?” The bafflement in his voice clear as day.

“I do care, you know, despite what you think,” I said somewhat testily. I was too exhausted to get into this again with him.

His eyes met mine again and, for a second, the air stilled between us.

“In your own way, Potter, maybe you do,” He croaked, a twinkle in his eyes as a small smile tugged at his lips.

“A _smile_?!” I laughed dryly. “Why, Draco Malfoy, I do believe that’s the first time that’s ever happened,”

“Perhaps you need to be nicer to me then,” he chuckled softly.

“Likewise,” I muttered, leaning my head back against the wall and closing my eyes.

Something brushed against my hand, making my eyes fly back open. I glanced down and saw that Draco had edged his hand towards mine, brushing his fingertips delicately over my knuckles.

I looked up, startled. And, smiling shyly at him, I turned my hand around, unfurling my fingers and let his slip around mine; the feel of his heated palm pressed against my own causing a warmth to radiate from my core.

*****

Draco Malfoy found his heart give an unexpected flutter as her hand squeezed in his.

It was an oddly intimate moment. More so, he realised, than when he had her pinned up against the wall.

She had scared him tonight, actually terrified him. It completely threw him. One minute he was furious at her and the next he had been fiercely frightened for her.

All he had wanted to do was take away her pain and protect her. The feeling was so strong that it had taken him by complete surprise.

So here he was now, sitting side by side with her on the dusty floor of an empty classroom, holding her hand. He had no intention of leaving her, not until he knew she was going to be alright.

And the scar. He did not know what it meant about Voldemort being angry. He was fearful that it was because he, Draco Malfoy, had still yet to complete his mission. He hoped and prayed that his mother was okay. He would never ever forgive himself if she were being punished for his incompetence.

He glanced down at Potter; whose eyes remained closed. She confused him. He wished so much she would stop interfering in things she did not understand. Her mind was so fiercely set on one thing: _Voldemort_. Didn’t she realise that it was bigger than just Voldemort’s vendetta with herself? She frustrated him beyond belief.

And yet... he had this strong desire to protect her, to put his arms around her and hold her. He wanted her so much, much more than was healthy. It terrified him.

He scooted closer to her, wanting to feel her warmth pressed against him. To his immense joy, she immediately leant her head down upon his shoulder. Taking this cue, Draco snaked an arm around her back, pulling her into his side.

“I’m so tired, Draco,” she whispered weakly.

His heart gave a small twist; he was not used to seeing her acting so vulnerable. Especially when she called him Draco.

“Here,” he said, shrugging off his jacket.

He folded it up and placed it on the floor in front of her, coaxing her down on her side, using his jacket as a pillow. He lay down behind her, pressing his torso against her back for support as he draped an arm around her middle.

“Thank you,” she whispered sleepily.

He tightened his arm around her and leant over to press his lips once again against her scar.

“Anytime, Potter.”

And, as her eyelids fluttered closed, he thought in that moment that she was the sweetest thing he had ever seen.


	37. Trouble In Paradise

The first thing I saw when I yawned awake were legs. Lots of legs belonging to many chairs and tables. It took me a very confused moment to work out what and why I was doing laying on a dusty old floor in what appeared to be a classroom.

And then I looked down and saw an arm that was not mine draped languidly over my middle. And my heart instantly fluttered.

Draco had stayed with me through the entire night.

My last recollection of the previous night was him curling against me and pressing his lips down upon my scar. I must have fallen asleep through my exhaustion. How on earth I managed to sleep on a hard floor was beyond my comprehension.

Wincing, I sat up, being careful not to disturb Draco. My scar prickled, reminding me that I needed to go and tell Dumbledore at once. He would know what this all meant.

I looked down at Draco and sighed. I should not have told him about Voldemort being angry. If he was indeed a Death Eater, then this could be extremely dangerous for the both of us.

 _If_.

My eyes darted to his left arm. All I had to do was lift his sleeve up just enough to see. My heart hammered in my chest as my fingers shakily went to his cuff. I quickly glanced back at his face, making sure his eyes were still closed. They were. I hesitated. Should I do this?

It felt wrong to betray him like that after he had been so kind to me. But then again, I needed to know. And Ron was lying in the hospital wing recovering from a near death experience because of something Draco potentially did.

As quickly as possible, I started to move his sleeve upwards. But before I could lift it up enough to reveal anything, a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed my fingers painfully, making my eyes water. a hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed my fingers painfully, making my eyes water.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, Potter?”

To say Draco looked furious would have been an understatement. His grey eyes bulged angrily as he breathed noisily through flared nostrils. When I did not immediately answer, he hissed, squeezing my fingers tighter.

“ _Ow_!" I gritted, my eyes stinging as I winced in pain. "You're hurting me!"

“I spent the night on a hard dusty floor for you,” he seethed, finally letting go of my hand as he flung it down in disgust, “and yet this is fucking typical of you, Potter.”

“Ron could have died.” I said quietly, looking down as I cradled my fingers against my chest. Somehow, the hurt and disappointment in his eyes was a lot more difficult to bear than his anger.

“I don’t _care_!" he raged, his voice almost choking in his fury. "I don’t give a flying fuck, Potter!”

He jumped up, angrily snatching his jacket up off the floor, making me flinch as he snapped it down by his side.

“And to think I actually felt sorry for you last night," he snarled, before storming across the room and yanking open the door. "Do me a favour, Potter and look the other way next time I walk past you."

“Draco wait-” I began to cry out, desperately wanting to explain.

But he had already slammed the door shut behind him.

Well, if he isn’t a Death Eater then I’ll eat my knickers.

*****

As much as it saddened me, I adhered to Draco’s request and left him alone. Besides, Dumbledore was getting all mardy with me over the lack of progress I had achieved in getting Slughorn's missing memory.

Christ alive, if it is so vital to him, then why doesn't he just get off his lazy arse and do it himself? I had shit loads of homework and moody teenage dramas to deal with.

And when I subtly suggested that he could have a word with the other professors about going easy on me with the workload, he simply chuckled.

"And have people accuse me of favouritism, Etta? I don't think that would be a good idea, do you?"

Well, yes, actually. I thought it would be a fucking fantastic idea. But what did I know? I was just a sixteen-year-old girl with the entire fucking universe on my shoulders.

And I still had not gotten laid yet.

Speaking of, I seemed to be going two steps forward and then fucking thirteen back when it came to Draco Malfoy. He was one moody ass bitch.

During one particular Potions lesson, there were only three students due to the others doing their Apparition tests. Ernie McMillan, Draco, and I were the only ones who had not turned seventeen yet, so we were stuck in Potions together.

It made it more difficult to act as though Draco did not exist. Whilst Slughorn wittered on at the front of the class, I stole a glance at the white-blond haired Slytherin. I almost gasped out loud at how rundown his appearance had become; the shadows under his eyes looking darker than ever against his washed-out pale complexion. And he looked _sad... so_ sad.

I could not help myself, as soon as Slughorn had set us the task of brewing an ‘amusing’ potion, I jumped off my seat and marched straight over to Draco’s desk.

“Draco,” I said gently.

He looked up from his book with a sulky expression upon his face, his grey eyes flashed in annoyance. ” _What?”_

“Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” I said as he continued to glare at me. I could tell my presence was not welcome in the slightest.

" _I thought I told you to stay away from me, Potter,"_ he gritted menacingly through clenched teeth.

Jeez, I was only trying to be nice.

But I took a deep calming breath and continued anyway, despite Draco’s blunt hostility towards me.

"What you did, the other night... no one has ever done anything like that for me before, and I had no right to abuse your trust like that and try to see your Dark Mar-"

Draco slammed his book down hard on the desk, cutting me off, his eyes practically bulging out at me in fury.

" _Damn it, Potter! Just leave me the fuck alone!”_

And without another word, he stood up, stuffed his things in his bag and swooped dramatically out of the classroom.

A gentle cough made me look up. Slughorn and Ernie were watching me with great interest from behind a nearby desk.

“Trouble in paradise, eh, Miss Potter?” Slughorn said with a hint of amusement to his voice.

He didn’t know the half of it.


	38. All Cut Up

I finally got the memory! Get in!

It turned out, getting Slughorn drunk as a skunk and guilting him over my dead mother was the answer.

Anyway, I took it straight to Dumbledore which scored me some major Brownie points. It turns out that we have got to hunt down pieces of Voldemort’s torn soul and destroy them one by one. Sounds like a piece of piss compared to the bollocks that Professor Trelawney kept assigning us.

Feeling lighter by my awesome brilliance, I skipped down to dinner one evening knowing it would not be long until I conquered that evil parent killing bastard.

I stopped short, however, when I heard a strange sound coming from the boys bathroom.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I pressed my ear against the door. Someone was _sobbing_. And rather than giving them the privacy they so obviously needed, I carefully pushed open the door.

My heart stilled at what I was witnessing.

Draco Malfoy was standing with his back to me, his hands clutching either side of the sink, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His whole body was shaking as tears streamed down his pale face into the grimy basin before him.

“Draco?” I breathed, letting the door swing shut behind me as I stepped inside.

His gasping and gulping came to a shuddering halt as he looked up into the cracked mirror, his eyes meeting mine. In an instant, he wheeled round and I could not help but cry out.

Because on his left forearm, clear as day, was the Dark Mark.

I FUCKING KNEW IT!

Our eyes locked in mutual horror.

And then, before I could even open my mouth to speak, the fucking git threw a hex at me.

Luckily, it missed me by inches, shattering the lamp on the wall beside me. I threw myself sideways and flicked my wand, but Draco blocked my jinx and raised his wand for another shot.

The bin behind me exploded; I attempted a Leg-Locker Curse, but it backfired off the wall behind Draco’s ear and smashed the cistern, pouring water everywhere.

Draco’s face screwed up in anger and went to flick his wand back at me, but I got in there first.

I had read about a spell, scribbled in my potions book, meant for using on your enemies. I had no idea what it did, but now I decided (sensibly) would be the best time to use it.

" _Cru_ -”

“SECTUMSEMPRA!” I bellowed, cutting him off as I wildly waved my wand.

And to my absolute horror, blood spurted from Draco’s chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backwards and collapsed on to the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

“ _NO_ -” I gasped, my heart in my throat. _No, no, no, no._

I slipped and staggered towards him, throwing myself down to his side. His face had turned a sickly white as hands scrabbled at his blood-soaked chest.

“ _Draco_!” I cried, looking frantically down at him, my hands desperately trying to stem the flow of blood from his slashes.

His eyes met mine and the fear in them terrified me to the core. He started shaking uncontrollably as his blood pooled around him; around us.

“I didn’t mean to-” I choked as tears started pouring down my cheeks. His hands found mine, clinging to me like he was hanging on for life. His eyes never left mine as he gasped and spluttered incomprehensibly.

I started screaming for help, I screamed and screamed until my voice went hoarse.

Finally, the door burst open.

SNAPE! THANK THE FUCK!

Snape pushed me violently aside, and I lay sobbing and shivering in the crimson water as he sat over Draco, fixing him.

As much as I hated Snape, in that moment I loved him.

“I didn’t mean it to happen,” I sobbed over and over. “I didn’t know what that spell did.”

Snape was fucking livid with me. He made me go and get my schoolbag, curious as to how I knew such Dark magic. I realised I had to hide the book with the scribbles, and I had the genius idea of stowing it away in the Room of Requirement.

I ran through a room of towering piles of junk and ended up slamming up against some great big dark cabinet. I thought for a second of hiding it in there but decided to throw it on a shelf behind it instead.

Returning to Snape, I gave him my schoolbag and in return, he gave me a detention for every remaining Saturday.

“Please, sir,” I begged, only caring about one thing and one thing only, “Draco - is he going to be alright?”

Snape surveyed with me a look of utmost disgust. To be honest, I did not blame him. I hated myself too.

“He will be fine, if not a little shaken. It would have been a different story, however, if I hadn’t come along just when I did.”

I shivered as a feeling of horror went through me. I needed to see him. I was suddenly desperate to touch him and hold him and just reassure myself that he was alive.

But Madam Pomfrey refused point blank.

“NO VISITORS!” She bellowed as I tried desperately to push past her. “I’m under strict instruction to make sure that the Malfoy boy recovers in peace.”

That would be Snape’s doing then. And I was fairly sure it had something to do with a certain tattoo.

But I did not care - I really didn’t. I thought I would feel triumphant at discovering I was right all along, but actually I just felt sad. I felt sad for Draco and I wished I had dropped it instead of pushing it, and him, away.

I returned to the hospital wing under my Invisibility Cloak later that night after the last Gryffindor had gone to bed. I was not going to let some stupid rule stop me from seeing him.

The wing was empty, except for one bed in the far corner, the curtains pulled securely around it, obscuring the occupant. It had to be Draco.

I tiptoed across and very carefully slipped through the curtain.

My heart clenched at the sight that greeted me.

Looking paler than I thought could ever be possible, Draco, with eyes closed, lay on his side; raw scars clearly visible all over his torso.

I took my cloak off and sank down next to his bed. I tenderly cupped my hand across his cheek and sighed at the warmth of his skin. I closed my eyes and thanked the heavens.

" _Potter?”_

My eyes flew open and I quickly removed my hand from his face. His pale grey eyes were staring into mine and my stomach gave an involuntary flip as I realised just how beautiful they were.

“I’m so sorry, Draco,” I whispered, and to my horror, tears started splashing down my cheeks.

“Potter? Are you _crying_?!” His voice, although hoarse, held a hint of amusement.

I hurriedly wiped my face with my sleeves. “Just a touch of hayfever,” I mumbled.

His face creased up as his lips tugged into a smile, making his eyes twinkle. “If you say so, Potter,” he chuckled.

We both fell silent, eyes staring sadly at one another. There was so much to say, and yet I did not know how to voice the words.

Slowly, he reached out a hand, taking hold of mine. I entwined my fingers with his, relishing the feel of him.

“You came,” he croaked weakly, “even though you know who I am, you came.”

He sounded so sad and relieved at the same time, making my heart twist.

“Of _course_ I know who you are,” I implored as I squeezed his hand in mine. “You are Draco Malfoy, the boy who has infuriated me for _years._ Stubborn and hot headed, you have a habit of running your mouth off and-”

“Funny that, Potter,” Draco interrupted, a smirk playing on his lips, “but you are describing yourself to a tee there-”

" _But,”_ I cut him off, “I’ve seen a kindness in you I know you don’t like to admit you have. And you’ve got a good heart.” I paused, looking at him. I wanted him to believe me, he _had_ to believe me. “What I’m trying to say is, I don’t _care_ about some stupid ink. It doesn’t make you who you are. You are a good person Draco Malfoy; _I_ know you are.”

He swallowed, saying nothing. His grey eyes looked deeply into mine in a way that stole the breath from my lungs and caused my pulse to quicken.

“Come here,” he said, tugging at my hand as he scooted to the far side of the bed, patting the space in front of him.

Tentatively, I lay down next to him, afraid of hurting him. But he pulled me fiercely to his chest, holding me in his arms as he did that night on the dusty classroom floor.

“I’m sorry I tried to hex you,” he murmured in my ear.

“I’m sorry I nearly killed you,” I murmured back.

“Let’s call it even, then,” he chuckled, eyes twinkling into mine.

And just like that, as we lay together, moonlight casting down through the windows of the hospital wing over our entwined bodies, the Slytherin and I finally called a truce.


	39. It's A Date

" _Potter?_ "

The tickle of the husky voice in my ear roused me awake. I glanced down at the arm draped over my middle, my stomach knotting pleasurable as it tightened around me.

I twisted my body round so that I was facing him. My heart fluttered as warm grey eyes looked sleepily into mine, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Hello," I whispered, our faces merely inches apart on the shared pillow.

Draco pulled me to him so that our bodies were pressed firmly against one another. I was very aware that he was topless and felt a wave of heat rush to my cheeks.

Chuckling, he kissed my forehead, and I sighed pleasurably at how wonderful his cool lips felt against my hot skin.

"I'm glad you stayed, Potter," he said quietly, his fingers caressing my face.

"Me too," I smiled coyly, feeling suddenly so ridiculously shy. It was strange not to be hissing and swearing at him. "But I better go before Pomfrey catches me. I'm in enough trouble as it is."

"Snape didn't go too hard on you, did he?" he asked, actually looking genuinely concerned.

"Let's just say that nearly killing your classmates is frowned upon at Hogwarts."

Draco's face fell almost at once, and I realised the significance of what I had just said as our eyes simultaneously glanced down to his exposed forearm. Without thinking, I lightly brushed my fingertips over the cruel black image that scarred his translucent white skin. He shivered; the sound of the steady beat of his heart accelerating under my touch.

"We can get help, Draco," I whispered shakily, "we can go to Dumble-"

" _No_!" he hissed sharply, his face twisting in anger as he snatched his arm away from me. "You need to stay out of this."

"But surely Snape or Pomfrey-"

"I'm not discussing this with you, Potter," he sniped, clenching his jaw so tight that a small muscle visibly pulsed beneath his skin.

I was filled with a familiar frustration; one that made me want to shake him by the shoulders and scream in his face.

"Draco, you are being so bloody... _arggghh_!" I could not think of a good enough word to describe just how _infuriated_ he made me feel.

"And how exactly do you think you make _me_ feel?" he argued, as a pink tinge rose to his cheeks. "When I'm around you I never know whether I want to hex you or bloody kiss you!"

"Well, you did a good job of trying the former just last night!" I bellowed, forgetting I was supposed to be keeping quiet. "The fucking Cruciatus Curse?! _Really,_ Draco?! At least I didn't know what _my_ curse did!"

"I would never have done it!" He spluttered, sitting up so that the covers fell, revealing his bare torso. "I didn't really want to hurt you... not _that_ much, anyway." He added when I gave an incredulous bark of laughter.

"Yeah, well you know what?" I spat, my shaking hands curling into fists as I too sat up to face him. "That feeling is fucking mutual!"

I could feel my face getting hot with anger. My heart was racing and my breaths shallow and uneven. The energy in the bed was so immense, that it did not even surprise me when Draco grabbed the back of my head and forced his lips upon mine, kissing me angrily.

"WHAT IN MERLIN'S BEARD IS GOING ON IN HERE?!"

Draco and I breathlessly sprang apart as Madam Pomfrey yanked open the curtains, looking utterly furious.

"I was- uh, just seeing if was going to be okay," I stammered, clambering quickly off the bed as my cheeks flamed.

"What did I tell you last night, Miss Potter?" she seethed angrily. "No visitors! Mr Malfoy does not need you waltzing in here and delaying his recovery! Is it not enough that it was your carelessness that put him in here in the first place?! Professor Snape is going to be _livid_ when I inform him of-"

"It's my fault, miss," Draco cut in. "I asked her to stay. Please, she didn't know what she was doing and she's already in enough trouble with Professor Snape as it is."

I blinked at him in surprise. I had never in my life heard him stand up for me like this. He had always taken great pleasure in seeing me get told off.

Madam Pomfrey sighed heavily, giving a dismissive wave of her hand. "Very well, I suppose I could do without the hassle of having an expulsion on my conscience. You have five minutes to say goodbye, Miss Potter, and then I do not want to see you back here again! _Five minutes_!"

She spun on her heel and left, the curtains swinging closed behind her as she shook her head, muttering ' _Teenagers!'_ under her breath.

"Draco," I said turning to him at once, "thank-"

“Tomorrow," he said, brusquely cutting me off. "I'll be out of here by then. Spend the day with me.”

My eyes widened, startled by the intensity of his tone. “To do what?”

“I don’t care, I just want to be with you, Potter. For one day - just you and me, without all of this..." he waved an arm as though searching for a word, "... _crap_ surrounding us.”

“But it’ll be a Monday, what about classes?”

Something flickered in his eyes and he frowned slightly. “You’ve never minded breaking the rules before. Break them tomorrow, break them for _me_.”

The desperation in his voice troubled me, as was the look in his eyes. But suddenly the thought of spending a whole day just being with Draco sounded so tempting that I could not say no.

“Okay,” I nodded, a smile twitching at my lips. "Tomorrow. I'll wait for you in the Entrance Hall after breakfast."

“Good. Now go before you get in trouble.”

As I turned to pick up my Invisibility Cloak off the floor, I felt cool fingers curl around my wrist. I looked back at him curiously.

“Promise me you’ll be there?” he asked, his eyes intense and pleading.

“I promise, Draco,” I answered with as much sincerity as I could. "I'll be there. I _want_ to be there."

And, as I made my way back to the Gryffindor Tower, I tried to ignore the uneasy feeling beginning to stir in the pit of my stomach as I recalled the troubled look in Draco's eyes.

*****

I was greeted by a stony-faced Hermione, who was sitting up in bed with arms crossly folded over her chest.

" _Where have you been_?” She hissed, being careful not to wake our dorm mates. It was still early, and no one was up yet.

“I- I just thought I’d take a night-time walk.”

"At four o'clock in the _morning_?!"

"Yeah, well," I shrugged, not really knowing how to respond to that. Good god, it was like sharing a dormitory with Professor McGonagall.

“Is it true?” she asked, narrowing her eyes.

“Is what true?” I asked, trying to hide my impatience as I pulled back my covers on my bed and crawled in without bothering to get undressed. I was still tired, and I just wanted to close my eyes and think about Draco.

“Everyone’s saying you tried to kill Malfoy.” Her voice was stern but full of scepticism.

“Uh... not _exactly._ ” This was tricky, I did not know how much to tell her. I should probably leave out the part about spending the night lying in bed with a Death Eater.

I did not think Hermione would approve.

“Oh? So, something _did_ happen with Malfoy, then?” she persevered, raising her eyebrows.

“Look," I sighed impatiently, trying not to roll my eyes. "We had a little bit of a tussle, that was all, and he's perfectly fine now."

"What kind of a tussle?" Hermione barked, her eyes getting narrower. "Are we talking magic or fists?"

"It was just this teeny tiny spell," I said, shrugging as though it was no big deal. "And in my defence, I didn’t know what it did. I still think Snape was way too harsh giving me a detention every Saturday until the end of term though. I'm going to miss Quidditch!"

" _What?!_ " she shrieked in horror, no longer caring about not waking anyone. "You used an _unknown_ spell on another _person_?! Etta! How _could_ you?! Even if it _was_ Malfoy, you should never have done that!”

Annoyed grunts filled the room around us.

“I _know_! I _know_!” I cried; I did not need her reminding me of what I had done to Draco. I felt shit as it was.

“It was that book wasn’t it? The Half-Blood-Prince?!” Hermione seethed. “I told you to be careful, didn’t I? I _told_ you!”

I ignored her, angrily slumping down under my covers. She was ruining my mood, my mood which had started off so bright when I had woken up in Draco’s arms.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach just by the mere thought of the white-blond haired Slytherin. I could not wait to see him again, to spend the entire day together, hopefully making up for all the time we had wasted bickering.

For it was soon to be the end of our sixth year.

And the next day was going to be Monday 30th June 1997.

A date that would long be burned into my memory as one of the worst days of my life.


	40. Underneath It All

_**Monday 30th June 1997 - Part One** _

As my eyes fluttered open, there was only one thought on my mind. _Draco_.

I could not wait to see him. Getting ready, I was surprised to feel the beginnings of nerves, almost as though I was going on a _real_ date. I carefully dressed in my uniform and made extra effort with my hair and make up, ignoring Hermione's curious glances.

“Ugh, double Potions first thing,” Ron groaned as I joined him in the common room.

Not for me!

“It will be interesting to see how you cope, Etta," Hermione said haughtily as she came down the stairs behind me, "now you no longer have that dreadful book to _‘help’_ you.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, rolling my eyes; avoiding the temptation to stick my middle finger right up in her smug face.

“Wonder if Malfoy will be there," Ron pondered as he hoisted his bag over his shoulder. "You know, after you did him over good and proper." 

I froze at the mention of his name, suddenly finding it extremely difficult to meet my friend's eye.

“We’ll see,” I shrugged lightly, knowing that I really will... and soon.

We walked into the Great Hall and my heart fluttered when I spotted him sitting at the Slytherin table. Almost as though he had been waiting, he looked up, and a small smile tugged at his lips the moment his eyes found mine.

“Did Malfoy just _smile_ at you?!” Ron asked, flabbergasted.

“Uh- I’m pretty sure it was a smirk,” I said hastily, trying to hide my blush as I quickly hurried him along, pushing him towards the Gryffindor table.

I could not eat. At least I could not find the appetite to eat. I just wanted breakfast to be over so I could go to Draco. I had no idea what his plan was for our 'date', but I did not care. We had spent so much time fighting since we had known one another, that the thought of just being with him sent nervous thrills zipping through the pit of my stomach.

I dared glance back at the Slytherin table and I noticed that he had finished his breakfast and was just sitting. _Waiting_.

Throwing my half-eaten toast down on my plate, I stood up. I could not wait anymore.

“You going already?” Ron asked thickly through a mouthful of scrambled egg. “Potions doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.”

“No - I - uh... I’m not feeling well,” I stuttered, my mind now only on Draco. “I think I might just go to back to my room and sleep it off.”

" _Etta!_ ” Ron called after me. But I did not respond, already halfway across the hall. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Draco rise from the Slytherin table. My stomach twisted in excitement.

“Let’s go,” he growled in my ear as soon as he caught up with me in the Entrance Hall, the sound of his voice causing goosebumps to erupt over my skin.

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed my hand and led me towards the large front oak doors.

“Wait-” I said, looking around to see if anyone was watching. “Isn’t this a bit risky leaving out the front door? What if a teacher sees us?”

" _So_?" he scoffed, emitting a low, sardonic bark of laughter. "What are they going to do? Give us a _detention_?”

Actually - _yes_. They could give us a fucking detention and I had enough of those to last me a lifetime.

But Draco just tightened his hold on my hand and carried on, pushing open the doors and leading me out. He really did not seem to care.

He remained silent as he marched us briskly across the grounds. The morning sun was already beating down hotly on us and I was glad I had left my cloak behind.

“Where are we going?” I asked breathlessly, struggling to keep up with his fast determined strides.

“You’ll see,” he said, coming to a halt as we reached the gates.

He wheeled round and looked at me, eyes twinkling as he took my other hand. “Have you ever Apparated before?”

“Yes, last summer with Dumbledore.” I could not help but notice Draco flinch at the name. “But we haven’t passed our tests yet.”

He simply shrugged, his eyes flashing as they looked into mine.

“Who cares? I learnt last summer. The question is, do you trust me, Potter?”

I blinked, looking at him. My mind raced. _Do I trust him? Do I trust Draco Malfoy?_

“Yes,” I whispered.

And then he was pulling me into his arms, and, with a single ' _crack'_ , we vanished.

*****

“Where are we?” I asked as a strong wind whipped my hair around my face and salt air invaded my nostrils.

I looked around, taking in our surroundings. We had landed next to what looked like a large, busy pier that went out across the sea. It was full of fair rides, people, and noise.

“I thought we could do something _Muggley,”_ Draco grinned, looking at me as if for approval. “I know you were brought up by some.”

“Ha!” I laughed bitterly. “My _darling_ aunt and uncle would rather have stuck pins in their eyes than take me out anywhere.”

“You’ve _never_ been to a fairground?” Draco asked incredulously. “Christ, even _I’ve_ gate-crashed the occasional Muggle amusements.”

I shrugged my shoulders, gazing back over to the fun filled pier. “It’s not something I’ve ever thought about, I guess.”

“Well, let me show you what you’ve been missing out on, Potter,” he smirked, grabbing my hand, and led me to the entrance.

*****

Oh, fucking god, this was not my idea of fun.

“ _Draco_ \- _I_ _can’t_ _breathe_!” I gasped as we spun wildly around on these spinning things called the Waltzers. 

My hand grappled tightly at his arm as I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing this ride could just be over with.

I heard him chuckle as he pulled his arm out of my fierce grip and snaked it around my waist, holding me tightly to his side.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of going fast,” he laughed huskily in my ear. “Open your eyes and enjoy it, Potter.”

But I couldn’t, I just clung onto him for dear life instead.

“You bloody git!” I spluttered, smacking his shoulder as we finally stepped off the ride. “Never do that to me again!”

“And here I was thinking the great Henrietta Potter wasn't afraid of anything,” he chuckled, draping an arm over my shoulders.

“So, dare I ask - what’s next?”

“Food,” he said, sniffing the air. I caught a whiff of sausage and onions, my stomach growled, suddenly realising how hungry I felt.

Ten minutes later, we were stood in the queue for the Ferris Wheel, eating hotdogs which Draco had bought using the Muggle money he had somehow acquired for our 'date'.

“You surprise me,” I said, wiping away a blob of mustard from my chin. 

Draco looked at me as he raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I dunno, I’m just not used to this - _you..._ you being _nice_.”

He chuckled, lowering his hotdog as his eyes twinkled into mine. “I _am_ nice, Potter. You just never gave me the chance to show you before.”

"Hmmm," I said, narrowing my eyes up at him, "so those 'Potter Stinks' badges was actually your way of declaring your undying love to me, huh?"

"Come _on_ , Potter," he smirked cockily, "don't pretend you weren't flattered. I saw the look in your eyes, you _loved_ it."

I threw the remainder of my bread roll in his face.

"You weren't entirely wrong, though," he murmured in my ear as we settled into a car of the Ferris Wheel moments later.

"Huh?" I asked, looking up at him startled as he snaked an arm around my waist and pulled me into his side.

My heart skipped as our eyes locked and I found myself softly sighing as he lifted a hand to brush a lock of my hair behind my ear. 

"I've always liked you, Potter. More than I'd ever cared to admit."

The breath momentarily evacuated my lungs as the Ferris Wheel ascended us upwards. But it was not the motion of the ride that had caused it.

"I like you too," I said shyly, my cheeks blushing furiously.

And then he leant in, catching my lips in his as he kissed me softly and sweetly, cupping my face beneath his fingers.

We both broke away, breathless and smiling.

But then, as though suddenly remembering something, his face fell.

"What about- what about...?" he trailed off, looking anguished as he glanced down at his left arm.

Without hesitation, I placed my hand firmly across where his sleeve covered the offending Mark.

"Draco Malfoy," I whispered softly in his ear, "you're really lovely, underneath it all.”

And when the ride finally ended, and he suggested we go someplace quieter; I didn’t need any persuasion.


	41. New

_**Monday 30th June 1997 - Part Two** _

One _crack_ later, and we found ourselves in the clearing of a forest.

Beside us, a roaring great waterfall fell spectacularly into a vast clear river. The afternoon sun beat down through the gaps in the trees, sparkling off the water below us. Shades of green were splashed everywhere and there was not another soul about. I wondered how Draco knew such a place.

" _Wow_ ,” I breathed, taking it all in. “Draco, this place is- it's... _beautiful_.”

Long fingers clasped around mine, an action now so automatic, it felt normal.

“Fancy a swim?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he led me towards the river.

“I didn’t bring any swimwear,” I answered, knowing what his response would be as soon as the words had passed my lips.

“Who needs them?” he chuckled, letting go of my hand to loosen his tie. "Never heard of skinny dipping before?"

“If you think I’m going to stand here and strip off all my clothes in front of you, then you can think again!”

Still chuckling, he pulled his shirt over his head, revealing the visible scars all over his bare torso. I winced; finding it somehow worse seeing what I had inflicted on him out in the cold light of day.

I could not help but reach out a hand, lightly trailing a single fingertip along a raw, red line across his taut stomach. He sucked in a sharp breath, shuddering beneath my touch.

" _I’m sorry_ ,” I whispered, not dropping my hand. Our eyes met and I felt something spark in the air.

" _Etta_ ,” he murmured softly. My breath hitched. I had never in my life heard him call me anything other than Potter.

But before I could ponder on this new development, Draco suddenly grabbed my hand, a wicked glint in his eye.

“Draco!” I cried as he dragged me up over to the waters edge. “What are you doing?”

"Come on, Potter, don’t tell me that you’re scared?”

The invitation was too much. Yanking my hand out of his, I ripped my blouse off and shrugged down my skirt, feeling his amused gaze on me the whole time. Standing in just my underwear, I tried not to blush as I forced myself to look up at him.

An unmistakable look of hunger flitted across his face. His tongue swept his upper lip as his eyes briefly flicked over me; the bob of his throat prominent as he swallowed.

"Come here," he said, reaching out a hand.

"Aren't you going to finish getting undressed first?" I asked, pointedly looking down at his trousers as I folded my arms across my chest. Waiting.

He seemed hesitant at first, his hands hovering at his belt buckle.

"What's the matter?" I teased, enjoying being the one with all the power again. "Forget to put on any underwear?"

His fingers moved quickly then, unbuckling his belt as he stepped towards me, closing the gap.

"Let's just say," he growled softly in my ear as his trousers dropped to the ground, revealing a pair of boxer shorts which were barely concealing his evident boner, "that I'm fucking pleased to see you."

His mouth closed over mine as he pulled me to him, kissing me hard. I had not realised he had unclasped my bra until cold air hit my chest as he ripped it cleanly away from my body.

He groaned into my mouth as his hands moved round to cup my breasts, thumbs gently brushing over my nipples, our swim all but forgotten about.

I shivered and gasped against him, my entire body felt as though it had erupted out into goosebumps; the low burn in my stomach gathering momentum and threatening to burst into flames.

"Fuck, I want you so much, Etta," he rasped, pulling his lips from mine, as his eyes swirled hungrily down at me. He seemed to be waiting for something... permission to take it further.

"I want you too," I breathed, catching his lips back in mine hungry to have every piece of him possible.

I could feel his heart rate quicken almost immediately, his breaths becoming shallow and uneven as he pulled his arms back around me and continued to kiss me fiercely.

He lifted me off my feet and I eagerly wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my pelvis against his rock-hard cock which was still straining beneath his boxers.

A low meowling sound vibrated in the back of his throat and I could not help but smirk, squeezing my legs tighter so that he had to break the kiss and cry out.

"Fuck, Potter,” he hissed between sharp breaths, “do you want this to be over before we've even gotten started?"

Despite his pissed off tone, his expression was tender as he lowered me to the ground, pressing my back into the soft earth. He kissed my lips, my throat, my neck; running his hands up and down my body, stroking and groping as I bucked and shivered against him.

And then, at last, he brushed his hand over the silk of my thong, delicately at first, before daring to press his fingers more firmly, making me gasp in delight.

It took me a while to realise that he had stopped kissing me. That, instead, he was just watching me, looking down at me almost adoringly as he continued to stroke and pleasure my body.

"You're so fucking beautiful, Etta," he murmured softly as our eyes connected.

And then he slipped his fingers beneath the silk and was quite suddenly touching me in the most intimate way possible.

I was surprised at how unabashed I felt, how right it felt for Draco Malfoy to be doing this, to bare all of me to him.

And he seemed to know instinctively how to touch me, what I needed and what I desired. He never took his eyes off my face as I lay beneath him, writhing and bucking against his fingers. His patience was overwhelming, and I was starting to suspect that he would quite happily lie there pleasuring me until the end of time.

But that is not what _I_ wanted and, as I lay breathlessly recovering after he had brought me to the brink and watched me topple over, I told him as much.

" _Please_ ," I whispered, tugging at his boxers, keen to get them off. " _I want you_."

He moved so quick, kicking them off in record speed. I could not help but widen my eyes as I looked down, his cock large and hard as it pressed sandwiched between his stomach and my thigh.

In a bold move, I reached down and wrapped my hand around it, making him instantly shudder and gasp. I marvelled at how something could feel so hard, yet soft and silky at the same time.

I watched his face with intrigue as I slowly began to make a pumping motion. His eyes appeared to roll in the back of his head as the lids fluttered maddeningly. Between semi parted lips, his breathing had become a series of short sharp pants, and it suddenly occurred to me that this must be what he looks like when he wanks in the shower.

It was safe to say that we had moved on from being just school rivals who bickered in the hallways.

Suddenly, fingers snapped around my wrist, halting me.

"Ease up, Potter," he muttered hoarsely before sitting up to reach across for his trousers.

Confusion hit me. At first, I thought he had decided to simply end things there and get dressed. But then I quickly understood when he pulled out his wallet and removed from it a small flat square package.

Damn, this dude was more prepared than a boy scout.

I saw the unmistakable hint of a blush on his cheeks as he ripped it open with his teeth and expertly rolled the condom inside down over his cock.

Fuck, I wondered just how experienced he was at this. I tried not to shudder as Pansy’s face entered my head. Perhaps it was best I did not know.

But for some reason, it suddenly seemed important that he knew about me.

"Draco, I- I've never-"

He cut me off with his lips as he leant back over me, kissing me with a surprising gentleness before he broke away, moving his lips down to my ear. "It's okay, just tell me to stop and I'll stop."

But I never did.

And right there on the grass in the middle of an unknown forest next to a roaring waterfall, Draco Malfoy fucked me.

Hard.

He made my body soar and flame, finding enjoyment in unexpected places. He caused noises that I had not even known existed to hum and sing in my throat. But most of all, he made me feel so fucking god damn _alive_.

" _Fuck_ ," he moaned repeatedly as he thrust into me, moving me into various positions and constantly changing the rhythm.

And just before he came, he had pushed me back down to the ground, his eyes never leaving mine as he hovered over me, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand, the other fiercely gripping my waist. His steady thrusts increased speed, becoming sloppier and wilder. Fast and furious breaths hit my face as he got nearer and nearer to his ever-building climax.

I was hungry for it; hungry for him to come undone inside of me. And then, at last, with one final furious thrust, a strangled groan issued from the back of his throat and I watched in fascination as the darks of his eyes expanded; his face slackening as he gave in to his shuddering release.

Afterwards, we lay panting heavily side by side underneath the beating sun, our bodies well and truly spent.

I turned my head to see his silver eyes sparkling like diamonds as he gazed at me, a smile tugging at his lips. I could not help but smile back, my heart pounding in pure joy.

“Well, that was new.” I laughed breathlessly.

“You don't know how long I've been wanting to do that,” he chuckled softly, rolling on to his side to reach out and pull me into his arms, brushing his lips softly against mine.

"Actually, you've hardly been subtle about it, Draco."

A smirk played at his lips as he trailed a single finger down my cheek. "Give me twenty minutes and we can continue to make up for all those years you've kept me hanging, then."

"I thought you wanted to go for a swim. Or was that just a ruse to get me to take my clothes off?"

"You're smart, you figure it out," he chuckled, his arm curling up around my head as he leaned down to press his lips against my lightning shaped scar.

We lay together in the grass dozing under the afternoon sun, listening to the sound of the gushing waterfall next to us. It was so peaceful and calming... except, of course, for the moments when we were 'making up for lost time'.

And when the sun began to sink, making its downward journey behind the trees, Draco and I reluctantly pulled apart and started to get ready to leave.

I could not help but notice that he had gone very, very quiet.

“Are you alright?” I asked, frowning as I studied his face. He had gone ever so pale and had a troubled look in his eyes.

“I just - I just don’t want to go back,” he said quietly, his shoulders sagging as he emitted a heavy sighed.

Alarmed at his troubled demeanour, I took his hands in mine and tried to force him to look at me.

“Draco? What’s wrong? And please don’t tell me it’s nothing because I can clearly see something is.”

He looked at me then, the sadness in his eyes so rife, that I found an unexpected lump form in my throat.

“I just wish we’d done this sooner,” he said sadly, lifting his fingers to tuck a strand of stray hair behind my ear.

I reached up on my toes, brushing my lips against his. He instantly wrapped his arms around me, and I could feel the wild pound of his heart as he pulled me hard up against him.

When we fell away again, I was dismayed to see that he looked almost grief stricken, which only appeared to worsen when we arrived back at the castle gates.

“I’ve had fun today, Potter,” he murmured, resting his forehead lightly down upon mine. “Thank you.”

“Etta,” I said, “you called me Etta earlier. And I quite liked it.” And despite everything we had just shared together, my cheeks flamed at _this_.

He let out a low soft chuckle, his twinkling silver eyes creasing through his smile. “Etta it is then.”

Distant shouts within the grounds caused us to reluctantly fall apart. I wanted to ask him if we could do it again, but something in the despondent way he was acting prevented me from doing so.

My heart hammered as our eyes met, there was something so final about this - I did not like it.

The shouts continued, and I glanced up to see a second year Hufflepuff boy racing down from the castle towards us, waving a rolled-up piece of parchment in his hand and calling my name.

"I'll leave you to it." Draco said, turning away as the Hufflepuff breathlessly reached us, almost dying as he handed me the parchment.

“P-Professor Dumbledore told me to give you this," he gasped between gulps of air, before collapsing to the ground.

Muttering my thanks, I unrolled the note.

_Dear Etta,_ _Please come to my office as soon as this note finds you. It is a matter of urgency._  
_Yours sincerely,_  
_Albus Dumbledore_

Ignoring the dying Hufflepuff, I glanced up towards the castle, wondering what on earth could be so urgent. My eyes rested on the white-blond haired Slytherin striding up the steps, looking as though he was going to his doom.

It was a shame, really. Because as I stood there and watched him disappear into the castle, I wondered if I might be falling in love.

It was a thought that I was soon going to regret thinking.


	42. The Serpent's Tongue

_**Monday 30th June 1997 - Part Three** _

Oh my god, Dumbledore is fucking CRAZY.

Trying to outdo Draco’s little adventure, he took me to a cave to fetch a Horcrux, slitting his arm open on the way in to use his blood for the entrance fee. _Ew_.

To be fair, I _did_ half heartedly offer up my own blood. But Dumbledore insisted I keep my strength, which was just as well since I had little of that left after fucking Draco all afternoon.

And _then_ we had to row a dodgy little boat across to the middle of this lake which was filled with _dead bodies_. As I rammed the end of my oar in a dead man’s eye, I could not help but feel bitter about the actual fuss that the school kicked up about needing a fucking signed permission slip to spend a leisurely and relatively harmless afternoon in Hogsmeade.

Oh, and of _course_ we could not simply pick up the Horcrux and be on our merry way. No, no, no. Instead, I had to force feed water to my elderly headmaster which seemed to be fucking _torturing_ him. And then, if that was not enough drama to be dealing with - the dead bodies decided to come out of the lake to play!

I did not think much of Dumbledore’s idea of a school excursion.

At least I got a hotdog out of Draco’s date.

*****

We Apparated back to Hogsmeade where Madam Rosmerta greeted us with the welcoming news that the Dark Mark had been cast above the Astronomy Tower in our absence.

Of course it fucking had.

I turned to look towards the castle and, sure enough, there it was. A blazing green skull with a serpent's tongue, just like on Draco's arm. I sighed heavily, wondering if I was ever going to get to fucking bed.

I thought back to Draco’s strange behaviour just before we had parted ways and I experienced a horrible sinking realisation. _Draco had known_. This was why he had been acting so strange. He _knew_ something was going to happen.

I could not believe that he was capable of anything like this. 

No – actually, that was a lie. _What_ I did not want to believe was that he could lay there and fuck me knowing that something like this was going to happen.

So off Dumbledore and I went, flying our broomsticks back to Hogwarts, with me trying to make sure that he did not fall to his death after his bout of evening torture. I could not help but wonder who had been killed. My fingers were crossed for Snape.

But when we reached the tower, however, there was no one there.

Feeling relieved that I could finally go to fucking bed, I emitted a not-so-subtle yawn and began to casually move towards the door, biding Dumbledore a cheery good night.

However, clearly not having ever heard off the importance of beauty sleep, Dumbledore had other ideas.

“Go and wake Severus,” he demanded. “Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do nothing else, speak to nobody else and do not remove your Cloak. I shall wait here.”

“But-”

“You swore to obey me, Etta - _go_!”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Was I ever going to get a fucking break in this god forsaken school? I found myself suddenly longing for the cupboard under the stairs.

But as I approached the door to the spiral staircase, I heard running footsteps on the other side. I looked round at Dumbledore, who gestured at me to back the fuck away. I did so, withdrawing my wand. My heart thudded in my chest. I was bricking it.

The door burst open and somebody ninja'd through it and yelled " _Expelliarmus!_ "

Only it was not just anybody. IT WAS FUCKING DRACO.

Before I could react, my body became instantly rigid and immobile. I felt myself fall back against the Tower wall, propped like an unsteady statue, unable to move or speak. And not only that, but I was also still under my Invisibility Cloak. Oh _cheers,_ Dumbledore. Thank you very fucking much.

“Good evening, Draco.” Dumbledore simply said, chill as anything.

Draco stepped forwards, glancing around quickly to check that he and Dumbledore were alone. His eyes, which had fallen upon the second broom – _my_ broom - widened slightly.

“Who else is here?” he demanded, keeping his wand poised threateningly towards Dumbledore’s heart.

 _Me, you giant fuckwit_! I wanted to scream. _The witch you were ramming your cock into only hours earlier_. But of course, I could not.

“A question I might ask you. Or are you acting alone?”

I watched as Draco’s pale eyes shifted coldly back to Dumbledore.

“No,” he said. “I’ve got back-up. There are Death Eaters here in your school tonight.”

“Well, well,” Dumbledore said, as though Draco was showing him an ambitious homework project. “Very good indeed. You found a way to let them in, did you?”

“Yeah,” Draco said, who was panting now. “Right under your nose and you never realised!”

Literally every word he spoke was like being punched hard in the gut. I wanted him to stop, to lower his wand and admit that this was all some kind of practical joke.

“Ingenious,” Dumbledore said. “Yet... forgive me... where are they now? You seem unsupported.”

“They met some of your guard. They’re having a fight down below. They won’t be long... I came on ahead. I - I’ve got a job to do.”

“Well, then, you must get on and do it, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said softly.

Draco did not move. Draco did nothing but stare at Dumbledore. I wished so much that Dumbledore had not immobilised me. There were a few choice words I could think of to say to fill in this dreadful silence.

“Draco, Draco, you are not a killer.”

“How do you know?” Draco said at once, the churlishness in his voice making me cringe. “You don’t know what I’m capable of, you don’t know what I’ve done!”

“Oh, yes, I do,” Dumbledore said mildly. “You almost killed Katie Bell and Ronald Weasley. You have been trying, with increasing desperation, to kill me all year. Forgive me, Draco, but they have been feeble attempts... so feeble, to be honest, that I wonder whether your heart has been really in it..."

Anyway, this went on. And I had to stand there, invisible and fucking useless, while watching the boy who I had thought I had fallen in love with threaten the man who I looked upon as a father figure.

It broke my fucking heart.

“I can help you, Draco,” Dumbledore said. He really is a good, kind man.

“No, you can’t,” Draco said, shaking so much that he could barely aim his wand. “Nobody can. He told me to do it or he’ll kill me. I’ve got no choice.”

And just like that, he let down his guard and showed his true colours as his eyes filled with terrified tears and his bottom lip quivered. I had never seen anyone look so vulnerable and frightened in my life. I wanted to hug him, to tell him that he did not have to do this, and it was all going to be okay because he had me.

 _Please_ , I silently begged, praying he could somehow hear my thoughts. _Please, don’t do this._

And then my heart rejoiced as he lowered his wand. He actually lowered it! _Yes_!

But it was too late. Other Death Eaters had joined us, and they buffeted Draco aside as four people in black robes burst through the door.

As Draco stumbled, he knocked into me. He looked around, confused. And then his eyes glanced back at the second broom and I saw realisation dawn on his face. He looked right at the spot I was standing frozen underneath the Invisibility Cloak. _He knew_.

Whilst the other Death Eaters were busy having a casual conversation with Dumbledore, Draco reached out, his eyes widening as his trembling fingers brushed against my invisible arm. Grappling wildly beneath the cloak, he found my hand, and clamped his own clammy one around it.

If I were not frozen, I would have sobbed.

And then Snape showed up, and I could not have been more relieved that Draco was holding my hand, because the moment that greasy haired shit yelled the curse that killed Dumbledore and lifted the Full Body-Bind Curse, the horror that hit me almost made me crumple in grief. 

Instead, a scream stuck in the back of my throat as Draco gripped my hand tight, pressing himself so close to me that I could feel his own heart thudding just as wildly as mine.

“Out of here, quickly,” Snape snapped, knocking Draco’s shoulder before flying down the stairs after the other Death Eaters.

Still clutching Draco’s hand, I yanked the Cloak off my head, and we stared at one another, eyes wide in shock and terror at what we had just witnessed.

“I’m sorry, Etta,” he said, shaking head tearfully. "You must know, I didn't want any of this-"

“Don’t go,” I whispered as I felt him start to tug his hand away from mine. I was overcome by a wave of panic and I could not comprehend what had just happened, that Dumbledore was dead. Gone.

“I’ve got to, Etta," he trembled, letting his fingers slip out of mine. "I can’t stay here anymore.”

I cursed myself as tears pricked behind my eyes. Snape called back up the stairway for Draco to hurry up.

Draco gave me one last, regretful look, and then he turned and disappeared through the door, leaving me standing alone, shaking in shock. Dumbledore was gone.

And then a feeling of such hatred ripped right through me.

THAT GIT SNAPE FUCKING KILLED MY DUMBLEDORE!

Adrenaline fuelled my anger as I flew down the stairs. My only thought was to get to Snape and fucking kill the hooked nosed bastard.

I chased him through the castle, flying hexes at random Death Eaters like the fucking awesome witch I was.

Snape had killed Dumbledore and now he was taking my new fuck buddy away from me. He was going to pay.

But the fucking coward escaped. Oh - and it only turned out he was the Half Blood Prince all along! EW! I had been fangirling bloody Snape all sodding year!

I obviously had a thing for Death Eaters.

Defeated and broken, I morosely walked back up to the castle where the whole school had turned up and were all sobbing over Dumbledore’s crumpled body.

On the bright side, I thought as I delved into my pocket to inspect the locket which we had risked life and limb to retrieve; we were one Horcrux down.

Only it was a fucking fake.

Resisting the urge to throw it in Dumbledore’s dead face, I stropped back into the castle and finally went to bed.

Man, it sucked being me.


	43. Grumpy

I was fucking grumpy.

Everyone kept pestering me, asking for the gory details about what happened up in the Astronomy Tower. But, for obvious reasons, I did not want to talk about it.

“Is it true that Draco Malfoy pushed Professor Dumbledore off the tower because he called him a ferret and made him cry?” A second year Hufflepuff, who I had never had any previous interaction with, asked me excitedly at breakfast a few days later.

“NO!” I bellowed, slamming my pumpkin juice down on the table so that it sloshed everywhere. “NOW FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!”

“What Etta means to say is that no,” Hermione quickly intervened before the boy could burst into frightened tears. “Professor Dumbledore was killed by Professor Snape, _not_ Malfoy.”

" _Fucking Snape that murdering bastard_ ,” I muttered under my breath, grinding my teeth. The fearful Hufflepuff backed away.

My eyes fell upon the Slytherin table as they usually did these days, and I tried to ignore the violent twist of my heart.

“Where do you suppose Malfoy is right now?” Ron pondered, following my gaze to where Crabbe and Goyle were looking oddly lonely without the white-blond haired Slytherin sitting in between them.

I winced, wanting him to shut the fuck up about Draco. I found it almost impossible to talk about him, to even say his name. I could not help but feel angry at the sodding idiot. Dumbledore would still be alive, and Draco would be safe if only he had gone to him for help sooner. Instead, he waited until the last fucking second to lower his wand and it had been too late.

“Most probably at the beck and call of You Know Who,” Seamus murmured darkly. “I know one thing for certain though, I wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now. Me Mam’s heard rumours that he punishes Death Eaters by making them eat _raw_ _fish_!”

He shuddered as though the idea of being forced to eat a Marks and Spencer’s salmon skin roll for lunch was worse than enduring the Cruciatus Curse.

After the funeral, I informed Ron and Hermione of my plan to go on the search for Horcruxes as soon as I turned seventeen. Now Dumbledore was dead, it was all on me to save the wizarding world and so I had no time for such trivial things like completing my education.

Turns out, Ron and Hermione were quite keen to throw their educations away too and were happy to join me.

Yay. Road trip.

*****

It all kicked off at Bill and Fleur’s wedding.

I did not care as I was having a shit time anyway. Turns out fucking Dumbledore had not shared with me his entire life story, so I was in a major sulk, drowning my sorrows in Butterbeer.

Oh yeah, and I was still sore from having my fucking bird killed whilst I was innocently making my way over to the Weasley’s. Dicks.

Ron, Hermione, and I had to Disapparate our arses out of there when Death Eaters showed up at the wedding. And _then_ we got attacked in a cafe on Tottenham Court Road!

I cannot even have a fucking cup of tea in peace anymore.

Ugh, my fucking life.

Luckily, I remembered that I owned a sweet crib thanks to my godfather carking it, so we bunked down there for a few weeks while I sat around pretending that I had a plan but instead I was secretly sulking about my two best friends holding hands in their sleep.

In the end we decided to break into the Ministry, because why not? It was not like I was the most sought-after witch or anything.

It was not a bad trip as far as our past adventures went, I suppose. We ended up getting an actual Horcrux and Ron sucked faces with this cougar. However, due to a cock up at the end we were unable to get back to Grimmauld Place, so we had to go fucking camping. I hate camping. Oh yes, and Ron got splinched and cried like a baby. Pah - you don’t know pain until you’ve been Crucio’d. _I_ would know.

And then there was a LOT of grumpiness. Ron got grumpy with me and I got grumpy with Ron. Ron even accused me of not knowing what I was doing! I would like to see him trying and being me for one measly fucking day and see how he likes that.

So, off he went, Disapparating away from us like the cry baby that he is. Good riddance. I could do without his kind of negativity in my life right now.

Hermione was gutted though, and I felt a bit sorry for her. But she had to understand, I couldn't have prats like Ron dragging me down. I was on a mission to defeat the World’s Worst Wizard; I was the Chosen One after all.

So, off we popped to Godric’s Hollow. The place where I spent my first happy year before Voldemort well and truly fucked that up for me.

It was quite a pleasant day out, actually. Well, until this lady turned into a snake and tried to kill me.

And then Ron decided to swallow his pride and came creeping back to us. Which was a good thing because he saved my life and destroyed a Horcrux. Although, to be honest, I could have destroyed that locket on my own, but I was feeling generous and wanted Ron to feel good about one thing in his life.

Our next adventure took us to Luna Lovegood’s house where her father hosted some sort of story telling fest. And then the fucking idiot tried to hand me in to the Ministry!

I mean, how fucking rude, especially after I pretended to drink his gross shit tea.

Jokes on him though, as we escaped, and his house blew up.

After that, I finally - _finally_ found a way to get myself reunited with Draco. Turns out, all I had to do was say Voldemort’s name.

Good to know that the noseless twat had his uses after all.


	44. Get Draco

Draco Malfoy watched as the rejected contents of his stomach swirled round and round in the porcelain bowl, eventually disappearing from view.

Panting, he wiped the back of his hand across his brow, which was slick with sweat as he curled up into a ball on the bathroom floor.

He could not stop retching. Every time he thought he was going to be okay; he would suddenly remember the sight of Voldemort’s snake eating his teacher at the dinner table and his stomach would violently heave again.

Desperately trying to think of something else, Draco closed his eyes and conjured up Etta’s face. He tried to remember every detail of that last day; every word they exchanged, every kiss and every touch.

He wished he could see her again. He missed her. He felt so sodding lonely being stuck in the Manor where everyone was too petrified to speak. Draco had witnessed so much torture and death over the past few weeks that he wondered if his mind would ever be the same again.

He _needed_ Etta. She understood. And she was so tough. He could do with some of her attitude in his life right then. But he had no idea where she was, yet (thankfully) neither did Voldemort.

He wondered what she was doing; wondered if she was safe. He wondered if she even liked him anymore after what he had done.

Draco did not like himself very much anymore.

He thought about the school he was returning to and he thought about the kind, long silver haired wizard with the half-moon spectacles who would no longer be there.

His whole body quaked as he let out a loud, violent, shuddering sob.

*****

“I’ll be needing Butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?”

How fucking rude!

Hermione had gone and sent some sort of stinging hex at my face in an attempt to disguise me from the Snatchers that I had 'inadvertently' called. It wouldn't have hurt her to have done something slightly more flattering though.

That disgusting werewolf, Greyback - who had the audacity to call _me_ ugly - whacked me so hard in the chest that I doubled over in pain.

“Stung,” I muttered, trying to resist the urge to call him a fucking pervert. “Been stung.”

I told them my name was Petunia Dudley, but they did not seem to believe me. Probably because of the flipping obvious scar on my forehead that Hermione’s stupid jinx barely concealed.

And then Greyback declared they were going to take us straight to Voldemort himself. Shit.

At Malfoy Manor. Double shit.

*****

“GET DRACO!”

I winced as Bellatrix screamed in my fucking face, wishing people would learn to stop spitting when getting vocal. Not only is it disgusting but highly unsanitary too.

We were marched – no, _dragged_ , through the hallways of Draco’s home, our hands bound tightly together in front of us with ropes, the Snatchers shoving us and kicking us at every opportunity.

And then we were pushed into this massive room and my eyes flicked upwards and I could not help but notice the biggest chandelier I had ever seen hanging from the high ceiling above. Wowzers, Draco had not been kidding when he bragged about being loaded. As I glanced back down, I caught a glimpse of myself in the large mirror above the fireplace, and I shrank back in horror. Christ, I really _did_ look ugly!

Footsteps hurried in behind us, and my heart stilled as I whipped my head around and saw a familiar white-blonde haired Slytherin enter the room. I quickly tried to hide behind my hair; it had been almost an entire year since I had last seen him, and there the fucker was somehow looking finer than ever whereas my face was doing a great impression of a sack of mouldy potatoes.

Merlin fuck, this was embarrassing.

I drew in a series of deep, sharp breaths as I watched his eyes scan the scene before him. If he recognised any of us, it was yet to show on his face.

“Ah, Draco. Come here, darling,” Bellatrix said in a sickly-sweet voice, beckoning him over.

Draco cautiously stepped forward, looking back at his mother as though hesitant to separate from her side. 

“My friends here say they’ve got Henrietta Potter.” Bellatrix explained. “Seeing as she’s an old school chum of yours, I thought you could confirm the fact for us.”

And with that, the bitch violently reached out and dragged me forward, yanking my hair back as she forced me under the light of the chandelier.

My heart raced fearfully in my chest as I looked at him. There was no mistaking the look of recognition and fear in his eyes.

“Well...?” Bellatrix prompted.

“I can’t... I can’t be sure.” Draco stuttered, as his eyes kept darting nervously at anywhere but at me.

I nearly let out a huge sigh of relief, thanking the heavens that despite how terrified he clearly was, Draco was not going to dump me in it.

But Bellatrix would not quit it.

“Don’t be shy, sweetheart,” she cajoled, letting go so that she could grab Draco and usher him towards me. “Get up nice and close.”

She pushed us together so that I was close enough to hear the furious beating of his heart. His eyes were now wild with panic and I could feel his fast laboured breaths on my skin as he took in my appearance. He swallowed, before parting his lips to speak.

“What’s wrong with her face?”

FUCKING CHARMING.

And then, as though I was not even fucking stood there, they all started having a whole discussion about my face, all the while I stared furiously up into Draco’s eyes, trying to communicate a desperate plea for help.

But all he could do was stare hopelessly back; his eyes looking fearful and apologetic.

We were so fixated on one another, that when Bellatrix started dramatically screaming right next to us, the both of us jumped; Draco’s trembling hand brushing against mine as he took the opportunity to inch closer to me.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THAT?!”

She had spied Gryffindor’s Sword amongst our possessions. For some reason, she had decided to take this all out on Hermione and demanded that they be left alone for some _girl time._

“Draco, put these two in the cellar,” she ordered, gesturing to myself and Ron. Bit rude, I knew I looked rough as fuck but what did she think my tits were about?

Draco immediately grabbed my arm, and I heard him exhale a sigh of relief as he pulled me roughly to his side. He hastily led me over to where Ron was standing and pulled him along with us out of the room.

“ _Hermione_!” Ron cried, as we hurried down the hallway, Ron stumbling as he tried to twist his body out of Draco’s hold. “We can’t leave Hermione!”

“Be _quiet,_ you idiot!” Draco hissed sharply, jerking Ron’s arm harshly to stop from him turning around. “Or do you want to get into further shit?”

We turned into a passageway on our right which led us down a steep flight of stairs. At the bottom was a heavy door. Draco unlocked it with a tap of his wand, revealing a dank and musty room on the other side.

As soon as we were inside, Draco let go of Ron and whirled me round to face him.

“Etta, are you alright?” His eyes were so full of worry and concern, that for a tiny fraction of a second, a part of me wanted to break down sobbing in his arms and let him comfort the crap out of me.

But I didn’t, because I was Henrietta Potter, and I did not have time to wail and wallow like a helpless civilian when there were evil dark wizards to zap.

So, I nodded my head in what I hoped was a convincing manner and offered him a weak smile.

“Your face,” he murmured gently, looking at me with such tenderness as he stroked his fingers down my cheek, "it's back to normal."

" _Draco_ ,” I breathed, closing my eyes at the welcoming feel of his touch.

“What the _fuck_?”

Draco and I jumped guiltily apart. I turned my head to see Ron looking utterly flabbergasted, his eyes darting in horror between the two of us.

Shit. I had forgotten he was there.


	45. Dobby's Sacrifice

“You... and... _him_?!”

Ron’s face was positively thunderous. His face now redder than his hair so that he closely resembled a red-hot chilli pepper.

Both Draco and I remained mute, glancing awkwardly at one another.

“Have you forgotten that he tried to _kill_ me?!” Ron spluttered, taking our silence as confirmation.

“That mead wasn’t meant for you,” I tried to explain weakly.

“Oh, well - that’s okay then!” Ron said hotly, “just so long as he doesn’t hit the right target, then it’s perfectly alright that he goes storming around the castle carelessly killing off his classmates one by one.”

Draco bristled, sucking in a sharp breath between his teeth. But he said nothing.

“Ron, it wasn’t like that,” I pleaded, trying to keep my voice calm, even though I wanted to just scream in his face.

“Try telling that to Dumbledore!” Ron spat, making both Draco and I flinch simultaneously. “Oh, wait - you can’t,” Ron continued, jabbing his finger furiously at Draco, “because _he_ let in a load of Death Eater pals ensuring Dumbledore would never see another day!”

“This isn’t the time, Ron!” I implored, suddenly feeling fraught as I glanced up at the ceiling, wondering what Bellatrix was doing to Hermione.

Draco suddenly strode over to Ron, roughly grabbing his bound wrists, and used his wand to untie them.

“I’m trying to _help_ you _,”_ he snarled, throwing Ron’s hands back down before wheeling around and returning to my side.

With a lot more care, he lifted my hands in his. The ropes fell away, but his fingers remained clasped around mine as our eyes met.

I would have kissed him if it weren’t for Ron stood there scowling at us.

But then a blood curdling scream sounded from above and we all whirled round, looking up at the ceiling in horror.

“HERMIONE!” Ron bellowed, his voice full of strangled anguish. “HERMIONE!”

He started to run towards the door, but in a flash, Draco immediately flicked his wand, and it slammed shut, locking us in.

Both Ron and I turned to Draco in horror.

“I can’t let you go. I had orders to bring you down to the cellar.” His pale face was cold as he looked determinedly at Ron. A sudden, sick feeling swooped low in my stomach.

“I thought you said you were going to help us,” I said quietly, as Ron drastically tried to force open the door, continuing to shout to Hermione over the horrifying sounds of her screams.

Draco looked at me, his face full of regret. “I want to, Etta, I really do.”

“You have a wand,” I said desperately, knowing I was clutching at straws, “help us. Let’s go and get Hermione and you can Disapparate us out of here.”

Draco shook his head sadly. “I can’t, Etta,”

He reached for my hands, but I quickly snatched them away.

“You can’t or you _won’t_?” I spat, unable to keep the anger out of my voice. I knew I was being unreasonable, and that Draco was in a horrific position, but I could not help but feel as though we were back on the top of the Astronomy Tower all over again, my heart breaking.

“I’m sorry,” Draco whispered, remorseful eyes looking into mine.

I swallowed, willing myself not to cry as he raised his wand and flicked it at Ron who went flying into the air, landing sprawled to the floor six feet away.

Without another word, Draco strode over to the door, yanked it open and left, locking it firmly behind him.

Git.

*****

Thankfully, Ron’s rat came to the unexpected rescue when he choked himself to death with his own hand, freeing up a wand. Get in!

Feeling high on luck, we dramatically flew into the drawing room where Ron heroically disarmed Bellatrix, her wand landing spectacularly in my hand.

Before I could stop to appreciate our awesomeness, however, Lucius, Narcissa and Greyback started firing curses at us.

I was relieved to see that Draco, at least, decided to keep out of it and cowered by the fireplace.

“STOP OR SHE DIES!”

Christ, I couldn’t catch a break.

We all froze as Bellatrix held up Hermione, pressing a short silver knife against her throat.

“Drop your wands,” Bellatrix whispered. “Drop them, or we’ll see _exactly_ how filthy her blood is!”

Reluctantly, Ron and I threw our wands down at our feet.

“Pick them up, Draco. _Now_!” Bellatrix screeched.

All eyes followed Draco as he nervously crossed the room towards us. He refused to look at me as he bent down at my feet to pick up Bellatrix’s wand with a trembling hand. I could literally feel the fear coming off him and I suddenly found myself feeling ridiculously sorry for him.

“Now,” Bellatrix said, as Draco scurried back with the wands, “Henrietta Potter, all bright, shiny and new again! Just in time for the Dark Lord. Call him, Draco.”

My blood went cold. Draco’s horrified eyes instantly met mine at his aunt's command. The panic on his pale face rife as I looked at him imploring, silently begging him not to do it.

But, looking away, he shakily started to lift his sleeve. My heart tore into tiny fragments as he slowly revealed his Dark Mark. The tears that I had tried to hold back suddenly escaped without my knowledge and I could not help but let out a great shuddering sob as he slowly raised his right hand, ready to call my enemy.

He paused, glancing up at the sound of my distress. And I knew then, from the look in his eyes, that he wouldn’t do it. He _couldn’t_ do it. I shakily released a breath I hadn't even known I had been holding, silently thanking Draco as he lowered his arm back down.

However, Lucius had no qualms about bringing on my untimely death, and quite happily touched his Dark Mark without a second’s hesitation.

Some Father-In-Law he would make.

And then, quite unexpectedly, the chandelier came crashing down on our heads.

There was utter chaos. Narcissa, Lucius and Greyback started yelling as a great explosion of crystal and glass flew all around us. Ron went charging at Bellatrix like a mad bull, grabbing Hermione from her clutches. And Draco, covered in shards of glass, came skidding over to me.

“Here,” he said breathlessly, pressing three wands into my hand. “Take them.”

I looked up at him startled, my heart both swelling and breaking as a small, sad smile twitched at his lips.

"Thank you," I whispered, smiling sadly back.

We held each others’ gazes, a moment of understanding passing between us amidst the chaos and confusion.

And the next thing I knew I was at Shell Cottage and Dobby the House Elf was dead.


	46. Back To Hogwarts

I buried Dobby like the Muggle he wasn’t; dripping into his grave my own blood, sweat and tears whilst everyone else kept an appropriately safe distance away from me.

My grumpiness had turned from bitterness to full on psychopath. I was not having a good year.

And I was also getting a bit fed up with all the fucking death.

But hey ho, the show must go on, and so Ron, Hermione and I joined cahoots with Griphook, a disgusting little goblin who I could not trust as far as I could throw him (which was actually quite far because he was tiny and therefore easy to pick up). But we had little choice.

We needed to get into Bellatrix’s vault. For reasons I can’t be bothered to explain, I was pretty sure there was a Horcrux hidden inside it.

And there was!

After watching a bunch of goblins get toasted alive, we hopped on a dragon’s back and flew ourselves to freedom.

But then I had a shit weird vision about Voldemort having a full-on tantrum over our little adventure as he slaughtered a room full of goblins. I was beginning to get the sinking feeling that I was not going to be getting the Gringotts’ Customer of the Year Award anytime soon.

“He knows,” I said gravely to Ron and Hermione as we watched the dragon fly away across the lake it had unceremoniously dumped us in. “He knows we know.”

“But does he know that we know that he knows?” Hermione asked.

“Huh?” Ron asked stupidly.

I excitedly jumped to my feet, getting a brainwave. “He’s going to check where the other Horcruxes are! And the last one...” I said, pausing dramatically as I looked between Ron and Hermione, “...is at Hogwarts. I knew it. I _knew_ it.”

I knew fucking everything.

*****

So, without further ado, we ended up back in Hogwarts on our quest to locate what I assumed was going to be the last Horcrux (ha!).

Oh yes, and on my way there, I bumped into Dumbledore’s brother and found out that he had killed his sister or some shit.

I got the hero’s welcome I most definitely deserved when I arrived and, after a bit of clever brainstorming, I got the rest of the students to work out that what I was looking for was a lost diadem.

But before I could start my search, bloody Snape interrupted the entire school by calling everyone to the Great Hall.

I listened in as he was giving it all this shit about defending the castle against me and that everyone could be rest assured that I would not step a single toe inside.

Well _ha_ bloody _ha_ Snape.

“It would seem that, despite all your exhaustive defensive strategies, you have a bit of a security problem, Headmaster.” I announced, swaggering in, giving it my all as the crowd parted like I was Jesus whilst the rest of my minions followed in behind me. “And I’m afraid it’s rather extensive.”

Fuck, I’m awesome.

*****

After chatting to a couple of ghosts, I remembered where I had seen a diadem before: the place where I had hidden my Potions book on the day I nearly killed Draco.

So off Hermione, Ron and I went to the Room of Requirement. I had to wait for Ron and Hermione to have a “moment” before we stepped inside though. Ugh.

“OI!” I shouted as they sucked each other’s faces. “There’s a war going on here!”

And, as though we needed a reminder, the whole castle shook as the enchantments Professor McGonagall had put into place to protect us from Voldemort’s army threatened to break.

 _I need the place where everything is hidden,_ I begged of it inside my head, and the door materialised on my third run past.

We split up the second we entered, as we each looked frantically amongst the towering piles of junk.

Skidding round a corner, I came across a large looming cabinet and stopped short. Through deep shaking breaths, I swallowed. This was what Draco had been trying to fix all the previous year.

I reached out trembling fingertips, hesitantly touching the cabinets hard, shiny exterior, and I briefly thought about everything he had gone through. I wondered how much I really knew Draco Malfoy and my heart suddenly felt heavy with sadness as I recalled how broken and frightened he had looked the last time I had seen him.

But yet, it had turned out that he had given me his wand. A gesture that meant that he had left himself wandless. Wandless in the middle of a war.

Before I could analyse this thought any further, something caught my eye. And it was then that I spotted an ancient, discoloured tiara. _The diadem_.

Fuck yes. All I had to do next was destroy this mother fucker, rip off a snake’s head and then blast Voldemort’s arse into the next galaxy. It was all too easy.

I was just in the process of reaching out my hand towards it; the prize only inches from my fingertips, when shit happened.

“Hold it, Potter.”

I froze. A voice so cold, so dangerous, and low, and yet... _no_ \- it could not be.

My heart thudding noisily against my ribs, I slowly turned around.

Crabbe and Goyle were standing shoulder to shoulder, wands pointing right at me. And through the small space between their jeering faces was another figure.

A boy with a pale pinched face and angry grey eyes.

It was Draco.


	47. Crabbe's Bright Idea

I swallowed, my hand still hovering over the diadem as Draco’s grey eyes fixed upon mine, his expression steely and cold. He too, much to my dismay, had a wand raised in my direction.

“ _Draco,_ " I whispered, my voice shaky and hoarse. “Please don’t do this-”

“We’re gonna be rewarded,” Crabbe jumped in; his face ugly and gleeful. He looked at me almost greedily; licking his fat, slimy lips. “We ’ung back, Potter. We decided not to go. Decided to bring you to ’im.”

My heart thudded violently against my ribs as my eyes flicked back to Draco’s, trying desperately to search for something resembling warmth in his features. But he remained impassive and emotionless, his wand still pointed determinedly at me. If he was putting on a show, he was doing a remarkable job.

“How did you know I was in here?” I asked, not taking my eyes off him, trying to stall for time as I attempted to calculate my next move.

“We was hiding in the corridor outside,” grunted Goyle. “We can do Diss-lusion Charms now! And then, you turned up right in front of us and said you was looking for a die-dum! What’s a die-dum?”

I closed my eyes, resisting the urge to tell him to shut the fuck up.

“Etta?” Ron’s voice echoed suddenly from the other side of the wall to my right. “Are you talking to someone?”

With a whip-like movement, Crabbe pointed his wand at the fifty-foot mountain of crap and shouted, ” _Descendo!_ "

To my horror, the wall began to totter, then crumble into the aisle where Ron stood.

“Ron!” I bellowed, as I heard Hermione screaming from someplace I could not see. I reached for my wand, pointing it at the falling towers, cried, ” _Finite_!” and steadied it.

But as soon as I had turned my back, it had seemed that Crabbe had been ready to cause more havoc.

“No!” Draco shouted, and as I whipped around, I could see him restraining Crabbe’s arm, preventing him from attacking further. “If you wreck the room, you might bury this diadem thing!”

His eyes briefly met mine and I was relieved to see the steeliness had gone, replaced instead, though, by sheer panic. Whatever his plan had been, it was clearly going wrong.

“What’s that matter?” Crabbe said, tugging himself free. “It’s Potter the Dark Lord wants, who cares about a die-dum?”

“Potter came in here to get it,” Draco said impatiently, as if he was talking to a three-year-old, “so that must mean-”

“′ _Must mean_?’” Crabbe looked at Draco in disgust. “Who cares what you think? I don’t take your orders no more, _Malfoy_. You an’ your dad are finished.”

“Etta?” Ron shouted again, from the other side of the junk wall. “What’s going on?”

“ _Etta_?” Crabbe mimicked. “What’s going- _no_ , Potter! _Crucio!”_

I had lunged for the tiara when that bastard shot a curse at me. Luckily, it had missed me, but the flipping diadem flew into the air and then dropped out of sight amongst a mass of crap. Ugh, fucking Crabbe.

“STOP!” Draco shouted at Crabbe, his panicked voice echoing through the enormous room. “The Dark Lord wants her alive-”

“So? I’m not killing her, am I?” Crabbe yelled, throwing off Draco’s restraining arm once again, “but if I can, I will, the Dark Lord wants her dead anyway, what’s the diff-”

He was cut off as a Stunning Spell grazed his left ear. Hermione appeared round the corner, breathless and sweaty as she attempted to fire another jinx.

“Fucking Mudblood!” he growled, his eyes bulging in fury as he raised his wand. ” _Avada Kedavra!_ "

Hermione dived aside from Crabbe’s green light just in time. Utterly fuming, I threw a Stunning Spell at him, but he lurched out of the way, and then he turned on me, lifting his wand, pure hatred in his beady eyes.

" _Avada_ -”

“Don’t kill her! DON’T KILL HER!” Draco yelled, violently grabbing Crabbe’s arm again.

But Crabbe no longer cared what Draco thought. Red and green jets of light flew between us, as Crabbe, Goyle, Ron, Hermione and myself battled; thoughts of the diadem gone from my mind.

I was shaking in fury. He may have been trying to stop Crabbe from killing me, but why the fuck would Draco lead them to me in the first place?!

“Like it hot, scum?” Crabbe roared, waving his wand wildly around his head, a crazed look in his eye.

Oh...shit.

There was fire. A LOT of fire. And nothing any of us tried could extinguish it. Realising I needed to get the diadem, and fast, I turned back towards the mountain of junk, desperately searching whilst the flames literally multiplied around us.

A hand grabbed at my back trying to pull me away.

“Etta!” Draco rasped, choking on the smoke, “we need to get out, _now_!”

“I need to find the fucking diadem!” I snapped, shrugging him off.

“Please, Etta,” he begged, grabbing my arm, and forcing me round to look at him, his face already blackened from the smoke. “We’re going to die if we don’t get out now.”

“You should have thought of that before leading those fucking buffoons right to me!” I bellowed, yanking my arm free from his tight grip. “Now either make yourself useful and help me find this fucking diadem or _get out_!”

He looked around, as though conflicted. His eyes landed on Ron who was hastily tossing junk aside as Hermione stood behind him, shouting different incantations at the building wall of flames, attempting to keep it at bay. Clearly deciding we had this, Draco wheeled on the spot and ran off after Crabbe and Goyle, vanishing from view.

Fucking arsehole.

The smoke was beginning to choke my lungs and the heat pressing against my skin as I tore my nails and cut my hands trying to locate the Horcrux. If it had not been for Draco, I would have already destroyed it by now and on my way to kill a snake.

“We have to get out of here!” Hermione eventually screamed when it was evident that her magic was no good against the fire. “Forget the diadem, Etta! We have to go!”

But as we turned to flee, a thick wall of flames had built around us. We were trapped.

Shit - I was going to die before saving the world and it was all Draco’s fault.

“Here!” shouted Ron, and my heart fluttered in relief as he seized two broomsticks from a pile of junk, throwing one to me.

Ron pulled Hermione on to his broom, as I swung my leg over mine and kicked off hard into the air, away from the blazing inferno. I looked down at the ground, desperately trying to see any trace of Draco, but there was nothing but thick black smoke and a carpet of red-hot flames. I had to pray that he had escaped in time because the idea that he was still down there somewhere made me feel dizzy with sickness.

“Etta, let’s get out, let’s get out!” Ron bellowed behind me.

I turned to fly towards the door, but then I heard a loud, bellowing cry; a cry that, despite the heat, made my blood run ice cold. _Draco_.

“It’s - too - dangerous-!” Ron yelled, but I had already wheeled round in the air, pelting furiously towards the cry.

I did not care how dangerous it was. Because no matter how much I had felt betrayed or let down by Draco, I would not - _could not_ ever leave him to die.

And then I saw him. He had his arms around an unconscious Goyle, the pair of them perched on a fragile tower of charred desks, and I dived. Draco saw me coming, relief washing over his face as he reached out an arm to me. But even as I grasped it, I knew it was no good: Goyle was too heavy and Draco’s hand, covered in sweat, slid instantly out of mine.

“IF WE DIE FOR THEM, I’LL KILL YOU, ETTA!” Ron’s voice roared behind me. I let out a small cry of relief as he and Hermione dragged Goyle onto their broom, allowing Draco to clamber instantly up behind me.

" _Etta_ ,” I heard him sob into my back, as he circled his arms tightly around my waist. Saying nothing, I sped up, following Ron, Hermione and Goyle through the billowing black smoke.

And then I saw it - the diadem, falling from the top of a tower of junk. Quickly swooping down, I caught it around my wrist as it fell through the air. My awesomeness knows no bounds.

" _The door, Etta! The door!”_ Draco bellowed in my ear, pointing to the right of us.

As quick as a flash, I whipped the broom back around and, leaning forward, I zoomed us as fast as I could towards the black rectangular patch in the wall.

Moments later, we came crashing into the corridor, coughing, and retching as we both rolled off the broom, with Draco conveniently ending up lying face down on top of me.

He did not attempt to move off me as we both gulped and gasped for breath, but instead rested his forehead down on mine, cupping a hand to my face.

“ _Etta_ ,” he choked, his voice full of awe and disbelief, “you- you came back for me. You saved my life.”

I did not say anything at first, just stared up at him, not tearing my eyes away from his. I could feel the furious pounding of his heart matching mine as he waited for me to say something.

“Of course I did.” I simply stated.

He looked at me then, the pupils of his eyes expanding slightly, as though he was only just seeing me for the first time in his life. And then before I could register what was happening, his mouth quite suddenly crashed down on mine, hungrily bruising my lips as he tore them apart with his own.

Completely forgetting everything, I found myself responding almost immediately, the taste of him too fucking good to resist. My fingertips grazed his scalp as my hands clutched his hair, deepening the kiss, getting lost in him as though no one else existed except for us.

“Ahem.”

Draco and I froze, our lips pulling apart as we slowly turned our heads. Ron and Hermione, with mouths gaping open, were both staring down at us.

“Etta…” Hermione breathed, her eyes widening in disbelief. “You and- you and… _Malfoy_?”

Ron, however, with none of this being exactly news to him, rolled his eyes.

“When Malfoy has finished saying thank you, do you think we can get back to destroying that thing?” he said, pointing to the diadem that still hung on my arm.

Draco scrambled off me as I hastily sat up, trying to act cool and unflustered as I made a big deal of straightening out my very crumpled top, when really, I was trying to hide my blush.

“Blimey,” I heard Ron mutter to Hermione, “thank bloody Christ Goyle is unconscious, because if that’s the repayment for saving someone’s life, then he can jolly well stay that way.”


	48. Believe Me

So, I guess Crabbe died then. Not that sorry to be honest.

It turned out we had not needed to do anything to destroy the Horcrux. The diadem simply melted away all by itself thanks to Crabbe’s cursed fire. So, all that time I could have just lured Crabbe into the room, yelled at him that his face looks uglier than the pope's backside suffering from a serious bout of haemorrhoids, and then shut the door without even ever having bothered to step inside.

Oh well.

Despite the continuing battle violently shaking the castle around us, an uncomfortable silence filled the corridor. No one seemed to know what to say now that the Horcrux had been dealt with.

Draco and I stood side by side, our arms brushing against one another, looking anywhere but at each other as though we were simply out on an awkward date rather than in the midst of a terrifying battle.

“So,” Ron coughed, looking down at his shuffling his feet.

“Um, Ron,” Hermione said, giving him a meaningful look, “do you think we should-”

“Oh look!” Ron cut in, waving enthusiastically down the hallway, “there’s Percy and Fred having a fight with a Death Eater. Let’s go say hi.”

And without further ado, he grabbed Hermione's arm and hurriedly dragged her away, leaving Draco and I alone with an unconscious Goyle slumped at our feet.

“Etta," Draco said breathlessly as soon as they were out of earshot, "about what happened in there, I'm so sorry-"

“What was your plan, Draco?” I asked, cutting him off, unable to keep the hurt out of my voice. “Were you going to hand me in to Voldemort yourself?”

“ _Never_!” Draco answered immediately, his eyes widening in horror. “Etta, you have to believe me, I wanted to help you, but I couldn’t shake those idiots off. Couldn’t you _tell_?”

"You left me to fucking die!"

"I did not! As soon as I caught up with Crabbe and Goyle I realised what a coward I was being and went back for you, but by then it was too late!"

I just looked up at him, shaking my head disbelievingly, wanting to believe him but not knowing what to think.

“Please believe me, Etta," he implored, looking utterly pained as he drove his fingers through his hair. "It’s been killing me not knowing where you've been this past year, not knowing whether you were dead or alive. I feel so fucking powerless to help you even though all I _want_ to do is be there for you. No- actually I want to protect you, to take you away from all of this and keep you safe. But I know you, you are the most infuriatingly stubbornest person I've ever known, you always have been, and therefore I know you won't ever allow me to 'save' you. But please believe me when I say that I want to. I want to so fucking much."

He grabbed my hands, entwining his fingers with mine as he looked at me with such a searching, intense gaze. " _Please_ , Etta, please believe me.”

I looked up into his eyes, my heart racing as memories flashed in my mind; Draco lowering his wand on top of the Astronomy Tower, Draco holding my hand as I helplessly watched Dumbledore die; Draco refusing his aunt's orders to call Voldemort; Draco handing me three wands - _his_ wand.

And I _knew_. I knew that he genuinely cared.

“I believe you, Draco,” I whispered.

He emitted a huge sigh, relief flooding his features as he immediately pulled me to him, pressing cool lips against my forehead, soothing my stinging scar.

“Thank god, Etta,” he murmured fiercely, his arms tightening protectively around me. Closing my eyes, I caught a faint waft of his cologne through the thick acrid stench of smoke, and it gave me the strange, yet wonderful feeling of coming home, making me feel, in that moment... safe.

And then shit happened.

One second I was blissfully standing in Draco’s arms, and the next, I was flying through the air, desperately clutching my wand, and shielding my head in my arms.

I ended up half buried under a pile of wreckage. Pain tore down my side, but worst of all was the fear. I shakily stood up, pulling wood and other bits of debris off me. I could feel blood trickling down my face, almost blinding me. It took me a moment to work out that the side of the castle had been blown away and the corridor that we had been stood in had been subjected to a terrible attack.

A loud terrible cry made me start - a cry that pulled at my insides, making me feel more frightened than I had ever been in my life.

" _Draco_?” I coughed, looking around at the wreckage surrounding me. But I failed to see him anywhere. Terror struck me so deep I thought I was going to pass out.

And then I saw Hermione up ahead, struggling up to her feet, so I made my way towards her, taking her hand as we staggered and stumbled over stone and wood.

“No - no - no!” someone was shouting in the distance. “No! Fred! No!”

And as the dust settled, my heart stopped as three red-headed men appeared, grouped on the ground where the wall had blasted apart.

Percy was shaking his brother, with Ron was kneeling beside them, and Fred’s eyes stared without seeing, the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face.

Fuck this.


	49. Happy Thoughts

_Fred’s dead._

The whole world tilted on its axis. I found myself falling. I was not as strong as I thought I was. I could not take this anymore. I just wanted everything to stop.

“Etta!”

My knees hit the uneven floor beneath me just as someone caught me under my arms, preventing me from completely crumpling to the ground.

“Etta!” Draco repeated, hoisting me back up to my feet, and pulling me into his arms. _Draco._ Draco was here and alive. But not Fred.

Not Fred.

However, I did not have time to dwell on this as curses began to fly over our heads and giant fucking spiders decided to come scuttling in through the hole in the wall.

“Etta, we need to move, NOW!” Hermione screamed whilst Ron and Percy hauled Fred’s body to the side.

Grabbing my hand, Draco pulled me along after Hermione with Ron following on behind. I was glad to let him take control. I could not think for grief.

But I had to toughen the fuck up. And fast.

Especially as Ron started having a mini breakdown causing Hermione to violently shake him back to sanity.

“Ron, we’re the only ones who can end it!" she cried as we took temporary shelter behind a wall tapestry. "Please - Ron - we need the snake; we’ve got to find Nagini!”

Draco turned to me, his brow creasing into a frown.

“Nagini?” he asked, as Hermione carried on shaking Ron in front of us. “Voldemort’s snake?”

“Yes, its a Horcrux." I quickly explained, running my fingers through my hair. "Just like that diadem. We must destroy them all to kill Voldemort. It’s the only way to end this."

“That’s what you’ve been doing this past year," Draco murmured, looking at me in what I can only describe as _awe_ , "hunting down these Horcruxes?”

I nodded, and I could see the astonishment flash in his eyes as he took this all in. And then he seemed to come to some sort of decision as his face pulled into a fixed, determined look.

“I can help you,” he said, quietly. “I know where to find the snake, but...” he trailed off, swallowing.

" _But_?" I pressed, suddenly eager to get moving, my shock quickly dissipating as I was filled with a renewed fight. 

“Etta, I’ll have to take you to Voldemort - that’s where Nagini will be.”

I nodded, my heart thudding. Looking him fiercely in the eyes, I held out a hand in front of me.

“Then take me there. Now.”

*****

The great friend that I was, I left Ron and Hermione behind, explaining that they weren’t needed anymore. I had Draco now.

I’m sure they understood.

Using my Invisibility Cloak, Draco and I escaped the castle, dodging through the chaos of the battle as we went.

As soon as we got outside to the safety of the darkness, we whipped off the cloak, and headed silently in the direction of the Whomping Willow, our hands clasped tightly together.

But about halfway there we stopped short in our tracks as a coldness engulfed us; the type of coldness which turned your breath to ice and froze your lungs.

" _N-No_ ,” I shuddered, shutting my eyes, trying to block out the screams of my mother.

Draco started shouting in my ear, but I was not listening. What was the point? I was not going to win this war. So many were already dead. Cedric, Dumbledore, Sirius, Dobby, Hedwig. And now Fred. All dead because of me. There was no point. I may as well just let this darkness-

“ETTA!” Draco bellowed in my ear. “I need you to help me do this!”

My eyes flew open, and I saw that Draco was desperately trying to cast a Patronus towards the advancing Dementors but failing miserably.

Shakily, I lifted my wand and tried with all my might to conjure a happy memory. _Discovering I was a witch... leaving the Dursleys..._

" _Expecto... Expecto...”_

But it was no use. _They’re all dead. Everyone’s dead._ I fell to my knees, sobbing.

“Etta! _Please_!”

Draco’s voice brought me back again. A Dementor was closing in on him, already trying to suck out his soul. He fell to his knees beside me, letting his wand clutter to the ground.

 _No, not Draco. They can’t take Draco too_.

And then, suddenly, I thought about what Draco meant to me, and my mind went back to that one perfect afternoon we shared by the waterfall... his touches...his _kisses_...

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ "

A huge white stag galloped out of the end of my wand, driving the Dementors away. I sighed with relief as the coldness lifted and hope once again filled my heart.

“You did it, Etta,” Draco said hoarsely, shakily getting back to his feet, helping me up with him. "You fucking did it."

I turned to him, an exhausted smile tugging at my lips as the glow of my Patronus lit up our faces; my stag continuing to circle us, _protecting_ us.

“It was _you_ , Draco,” I said, reaching up to touch his cheek. ” _You_ are my happiest thought. I couldn’t have produced it if you weren’t for you.”

I saw the warmth flood over Draco’s features, his eyes twinkling in the soft glow of the light as a smile twitched at his lips.

" _Etta,”_ he breathed, pulling me to him.

I closed my eyes as his lips brushed against mine and I could not help but release a soft, contented sigh. _I could stay in his arms forever_ , I thought, as he held me firmly against him, his warm hard body offering me security and affection.

But loud booming sounds from the castle brought me crashing back to reality.

And reality sucked.

Reluctantly, we broke apart, staring back up at the burning building that we once called home, where our friends were fighting, sacrificing their lives for our future freedom and peace.

Draco and I stared at one another, exchanging looks of anguish and terror. And I knew it was up to me to end this.

“Let’s go,” I said with renewed determination, hatred coursing through me as I thought about the monster responsible for all of this.

No fucking way was I going to let that bastard win.


	50. Her Mother's Eyes

We crawled through the small hole at the bottom of the Whomping Willow’s trunk. Me leading the way, Draco following behind.

“Etta, wait,” Draco rasped the second I dropped down into the tunnel and started to race up ahead. I skidded to a halt, wheeling round to face him.

“What?” I asked as I impatiently jogged on the spot, keen to go and get this done. I had a bitch to fry.

Draco, however, did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as my awesome self.

Body drooping, pale grey eyes looked exhaustedly into mine as he propped himself up against the tunnel wall, clutching a hand to his chest. His white-blond hair was now dirty in colour, falling messily around his bloody and soot-streaked face. His normally immaculate black suit was crumpled, filthy and torn.

My heart immediately twisted, and I ran straight back to him, pulling his wearied body to mine, hoping to give him some of my strength. His arms clamped around me, hands clinging to my back, and I heard him sigh as he nuzzled his face in my hair, welcoming my embrace.

“I’m sorry, Etta,” he murmured despairingly above my ear, “I just can’t do this, the thought of taking you to him is killing me.”

“Draco, listen to me,” I said, bringing my hands up to cup his face and forcing him to look into my eyes. “I’ve got to do this; this has to be done. You do understand that, don’t you?”

Closing his eyes, he slowly nodded, his face screwed up in pain. I reached up on tiptoes, pressing my lips hard against his, desperate for him to draw comfort from me. His arms tightened around me, pulling me closer as a huge, shuddering sob escaped him.

“Look, I can go on from here alone,” I offered, suddenly feeling desperate to get a move on. I could not have anyone holding me back, no matter how hot they were. “Why don’t you go and find your mother? She’s probably worried.”

I had not _meant_ for it to come out sounding as though I was taking the piss, but when you have had a rivalry for as long as ours, it was difficult to keep the ridicule out of my voice.

“I’m not fucking leaving you to face him by yourself!” Draco hollered, looking completely affronted by my suggestion.

I could feel the familiar stirrings of frustration that only Draco Malfoy could evoke in me. And despite this being neither the time nor the place, I could not help but throw a little snide dig at him.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I scoffed, recalling our first year’s detention in the Forbidden Forest when he literally ran away screaming from a silly little monster, probably wetting his pants in the process.

He looked as though he was going to argue, but then he paused, a familiar and almost forgotten glint in his eye as he met my defiant stare.

“Alright, Potter,” he said, a smirk twitching at his lips as he grabbed my hand. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily anymore.”

And without another word, he strode on, leading the way to the Shrieking Shack.

That's my boy.

*****

I knew we were close when my scar started prickling.

“Etta?” Draco asked, a deep frown etched upon his face when I could not help but wince from a particular painful twinge.

“It’s nothing,” I dismissed, not wanting to upset him any further. “It’s normal when _He’s_ close by.”

“Your scar?”

“Yes-” I was cut off as a sudden excruciating pain tore through my head, forcing me to cry out and clasp my hands to my scar.

“Etta!” I felt hands grappling at my arms, but I could not respond, the pain was so terrible that I was convinced my head was going to split open.

And then, in my mind, Snape’s face appeared. He looked afraid. _Very_ afraid.

The pain stopped at once and my eyes flew open. Draco’s worried face was right in front of mine, his hands gripping my arms tightly.

“Etta?” he demanded, shaking me, “what’s happening?”

“Snape’s with him. I think he’s going to kill him.” I gasped breathlessly, my heart thudding noisily against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest.

A look of fear flitted across Draco’s face. But he was quick to recover this time as a determination flashed fiercely in his eyes.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me along, “let’s go.”

We were practically running now, stumbling, and tripping our way along the tunnel, the throbbing in my scar getting fiercer and fiercer.

And then, finally we reached it. The Shrieking Shack.

Draco climbed out of the tunnel first, and then reached down to help pull me up. Finding ourselves at the bottom of a dark stairway, we slowly turned on the spot with our wands gripped tightly in our hands, trying to work out where to go.

“Over here,” Draco whispered, as he crouched down by the wall beneath the stairs, beckoning for me to join him.

There was a light shining out of a small gap between two wooden slats. I crouched down next to Draco and carefully peered through it. On the other side of the wall stood Voldemort, his back to us as he faced Snape, whose fearful dark eyes were fixed upon the coiling serpent at Voldemort’s feet.

My scar once again exploded with pain, and I had to press my fist hard against my mouth to stop myself from crying out. Draco's arm instantly drew around me as he pulled me close. I screwed my eyes tight shut and buried my face in his shoulder until the pain subsided.

And then we had to sit there and listen to Voldemort harp on about how much he wanted to kill me and that the only way he could possibly achieve the outcome of my death was by killing his most 'loyal' servant first.

I mean, all the thick twat had to do was turn around and throw a knife in my heart. But sure, kill Snape first, whatever helps him to sleep at night, I guess.

“It cannot be any other way,” Voldemort insisted when Snape tried to reasonably point this out too. “I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last.”

Ew, this dude was talking about me as though I was some kind of freaking prized puppet for him to play with.

Inevitably, Snape got butchered by Voldemort’s snake. I’m not going to lie; it wasn’t a pretty sight.

Blood spewed _everywhere_. 

“Where are you going?” Draco hissed as I pelted for the door to the room where Voldemort had just left our old Potions Master lying in his own blood.

But I did not answer, my mind only on the dying man on the other side.

I entered the room as quietly as I could, and there, slumped on the floor against the far wall was Snape, white faced as his fingers tried to staunch the bloody wound at his neck.

I strode over and looked down upon the man that had done nothing but bully and belittle me throughout my entire Hogwarts life. His black eyes widened upon seeing me and, as he opened his mouth, a terrible rasping, gurgling noise issued from his throat.

Not so full of yourself now, are you, Snivellus?

Feeling in a forgiving mood, however, I dropped heavily to my knees and pressed my hand to his bleeding wound, but I could see it was no use. With the little strength he had left, Snape clasped my wrist and looked deep into my eyes.

And to my horror, he started to cry.

" _Take them...”_

I stared at him, confused. What the fuck was he on about now?

" _Take them!”_

And then I noticed the tears from his eyes had turned a silvery blue colour, and I suddenly understood.

" _Please.”_

Before I could work out how on earth I was to collect them, a glass flask was pressed into my hand and I looked up to see Draco stood behind me. He swallowed as our eyes met and I nodded a silent thank you to him.

My hands trembling, I titled the flask against Snape’s ashen cheek, letting the silvery blue tears flow within.

" _They are the same...”_

I searched Snape’s face, trying to decipher the meaning behind his words. But he just stared at me in wonder, as though lost in my eyes. I tried not to visibly shudder. He was dying, after all.

" _You have your mother’s eyes...”_

And then his face slackened, and something in the depths of his eyes vanished. The hand holding my wrist thudded to the ground.

Damn, I thought as he moved no more. My mother dodged a bullet there.


	51. Potter's Fate

I did not move. I just stared at the dead man before me, every part of me feeling numb. 

I wanted to feel some sort of jubilation at his death, that justice had finally been served after everything that greasy haired prick had put me through.

But I could not shake off the way he had looked at me in his dying moments. And I just felt this unexplained hollow emptiness inside of me. Glancing down at the glass flask in my trembling hand, I knew the answer lay inside the tears contained within.

And getting those answers suddenly seemed more urgent than killing the snake. Nagini could wait, besides, I could always delegate that job to someone else, I was not called the Chosen One for nothing.

Voldemort's voice cut coldly and loudly into the silence and I quickly jumped up and whirled around, convinced he must have come back into the room. But no one except Draco was there.

" _You have fought, valiantly... but in vain_.”

Draco and I exchanged a horrified glance as Voldemort's menacing tones continued to echo around us.

" _Henrietta Potter, I speak now, directly to you_. _You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself.”_

“Don’t listen to him, Etta,” Draco implored, his face twisting in anguish.

_“Join me in the Forbidden Forest and confront your fate. Should you do so I give my word that no other life is lost on this night. You have one hour.”_

“Etta! Please don’t listen to him!” Draco said, sounding desperate this time.

" _If, at the end of that time, you have not given yourself up, then I shall punish every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.”_

Draco instantly closed the gap between us, cupping my face in his hands. He was shaking his head frantically, his grey eyes looking fiercely into mine. “I won’t let him get to you, Etta. I’ll keep you safe, you know that don’t you?”

His voice was so full of panic and desperation that I did not have the heart to tell him that I never intended to do anything that would put his life at risk. _Ever_.

" _Pensieve.”_ I managed to choke out. Draco’s eyes filled with confusion; I could see he was trying to work out what a Pensieve had to do with Voldemort’s request.

My hand trembling, I slowly lifted the flask, and his face filled with understanding as his eyes took in the silvery blue liquid within. I needed answers, I needed answers to give me the strength to do what I had to do.

We hurried silently back to the castle, Draco never taking his hand out of mine. I was unable to speak, still in shock at the way Snape was killed.

And then there was Voldemort’s request...

Trying not to think of anything but of the glass flask in my hand, I kept my head down and tried not to look at the destruction the battle had caused to the place I had once called home.

I allowed Draco to lead me up the stone steps and into the Entrance Hall. He paused when we passed the doors to the Great Hall. From within I could hear the wailing and despair, and I dared lift my head to face the horror.

There was Fred, dead.

There was Lupin, dead.

There was Tonks, dead.

There was Colin, dead.

I could not breathe. All I could see were the dead and the grief-stricken mourners surrounding them. That was all there was. There was nothing else.

And it was all because of _me_.

My throat felt like it had turned to lead, and I found my hand slipping out of Draco's as I turned my back on the horror and strode toward the dilapidated marble staircase.

I could hear Draco calling after me, but I didn’t stop. I _couldn’t_ stop. I no longer had the time. Time was running out for me.

I ran and ran until I finally reached Dumbledore’s office. And it was there where I discovered Snape’s secret.

His final gift to me.

*****

Wow, cheers, Dumbledore. Thanks a fucking lot.

I wish I had never bought him that packet of sherbet lemons for his birthday now, the cunt.

So, I was not supposed to survive. I never was.

It was time for me to go to him. To go and face my fucking fate.

I made sure to kick the stupid stone gargoyle on my way out as I marched out of his office and through the castle.

What a stupid waste of my life this had all been. Still, at least I had managed to lose my virginity. That would just be embarrassing when I got to the afterlife otherwise. Poor Snape.

I bumped into Neville on my way out and suddenly remembered about the fucking snake. 

"Anything," Neville saluted after me once I generously gave him the job. "You know I'm behind you Etta, every step of the way!"

Damn it, why hadn't I taken him camping with me instead of Ron? Ron who had done nothing but whinge and whine in my ear for the whole entire year. Things could have been dealt with a lot more efficiently with this kind of attitude.

Ah, Ron. I supposed I should go find him and Hermione and say goodbye. 

But on second thought, I couldn't be arsed.

However, there was one person I could definitely not avoid.

“Etta, thank god,” Draco sighed in relief, racing across the Entrance Hall as I descended the marble staircase. “I thought you had gone to him, I thought-”

He stopped upon seeing my expression. Horror filled his face as realisation dawned upon him.

I adverted my eyes, not being able to look at him.

" _No_ , Etta,” he said, shaking his head from side to side. ” _No, no, no...”_

But I wordlessly moved past him, determinedly walking towards the great oak doors.

He skidded after me, frantically grabbing at my arm.

“Etta, you _can’t_! You can’t do this. He’s going to kill you!”

“I have to.” I said coldly, shrugging him off as I carried on.

But Draco would not give up. He jumped in front of me, blocking my way before I could reach the top of the stone steps.

“Are you fucking _crazy_?!” he bellowed, his face contorted in a mixture of rage and panic as he gripped my arms and started shaking me.

“It’s got to be this way, Draco. Please let go of me.” I kept my voice devoid of emotion as I forced myself to stare blankly into his terror-stricken eyes.

“Don’t do this, I’m _begging_ you,”

I could not bear the desperation in his voice. I could not bear the look in his eyes. It broke my heart.

But there was no other way. _This_ was the only way.

I closed my eyes, and I felt his grip slacken. I took the opportunity to move past him and walked on down the stone steps and away from him.

“I love you, Etta!”

I froze.

“Stay for me," he pleaded, his voice making me want to crumple into a heap on the ground, "stay because I love you and I _know_ you love me too.”

My heart was in my throat and all I wanted to do right then was turn around and go running back into arms. I wanted to tell him I loved him too and that he was all I wanted, all I needed.

But I had to do this. I had to do it for him. Because I _did_ love him. I had loved him for a long time, and it was exactly that reason why I said what I said next.

With all the effort I could muster, I turned slowly on the spot and looked directly up into his eyes; his beautiful silver-grey eyes which were always the first thing I saw in my mind when I woke up and the last thing I thought about before I fell asleep.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the words I would never mean but knew I had to say.

“I don’t love you, Draco. I never have and I never will. One day you will meet someone that you are destined to be with, someone that will make you happy. I can’t do that for you, I can't be that person.”

I watched as his face crumpled in hurt and disbelief. The feeling inside of my chest was horrific. All I wanted to do was run back into his arms and take the pain away.

But I had to let him go. I had to free him.

“This is my fate, Draco, _this_ is my destiny. Not you. It was never you.”

And with the heaviest of hearts, I turned my back on the only boy I had ever loved and walked towards the forest; towards the fate that was bestowed upon me from the moment I was born.


	52. The End Of It All

" _Henrietta Potter is dead.”_

The outside entrance of the castle was deserted, all except for the lonely figure crouched on the top step; head in hands, broken, and void of all hope.

Draco Malfoy slowly looked up, his heart thudding in his chest. It was light now and, at the very edge of the forest, he could see a mass of black cloaked figures appear. It was the exact same spot where he had watched Etta disappear as she walked out of his life and out of his heart forever. He had not moved since.

" _We bring you her body as proof that your hero is gone.”_

 _No._ Draco shakily stood up. The mass drew nearer and now he could see that Voldemort was leading the procession, the great snake coiled proudly around his shoulders.

Survivors from inside had started to file out and gather around him, filling the front steps to see the truth of Etta’s death for themselves.

And, as the Death Eaters drew nearer, Draco could see the unmistakable figure of the gamekeeper, Hagrid, staggering and sobbing over something in his arms. No - not some _thing_ , but some _one._

At the exact same moment that McGonagall let out a loud, terrible scream, Draco’s whole body jolted violently in pain.

It was her; it was Etta. And she was dead.

He could not breathe, for his lungs had turned to lead. He could not see, for the white lights flashing before his eyes. He could not hear, for the roaring of blood in his ears.

She had done it. She had actually done it. And for what? It had all been for nothing. Voldemort was still standing, waiting to rule above them all.

All Draco could feel was hurt, bitterness and pain. She had never loved him. How could she when she had chosen _this_ over him.

As the Death Eaters came to a halt, all standing in a line, facing the front door, Draco heard his father call out to him.

He did not know what to do.

It was his mother who persuaded him in the end. She was all he had left.

So, he went to her.

“She saved your _life_!” Ron Weasley spat poisonously in his face as he passed the angry red head.

Draco faltered, stung. But then on he continued, hanging his head in shame.

He could not bear to look at the baleful glances. He could not bear to see where she lay.

As soon as he reached his mother, he kept his eyes firmly on the ground, wishing he were dead - just like Etta.

*****

**Earlier**

"Does it hurt?"

The childish question fell from my lips before I could stop it.

"Dying? Not at all," Sirius said. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

Well, that was easy for him to say, all he did was topple through a veil.

I turned, instead, to my parents, hoping for a little more enlightenment. 

"We'll be with you the whole time," my father answered unhelpfully.

Great. As if the pain I had just suffered from my broken teenage heart was not enough.

Ugh. Life sucked.

By the time I reached Voldemort, I was not in the mood for niceties, I was having too much of a shit day. So, I stuck my middle finger up at him and let him blast me with his wand.

Death wasn't too bad I suppose. I could have done without waking up stark naked in front of Dumbledore on platform nine and three quarters though.

Anyways, I decided to forgive the cunt as it turned out I didn't have to die after all. _Hooray_! Although it was on the condition that I one day name my child after him. Damn.

After careful deliberation, I agreed. I'm sure if we end up together, I could easily convince Draco to name his kid after the teacher he tried to murder for an entire year.

So off I popped back to life, letting Draco's mother know all was cushty with her son upon awakening.

I sensed good times ahead.

*****

**Present**

As Draco’s heavy, tired footfalls passed me, I wanted nothing more than to open my eyes and tell him it was okay, that I was alive and that I loved him with everything I had. But instead, I forced myself to lie silently still. I had to bide my time.

And then I heard Neville. Wonderful, awesome Neville who faced Voldemort without batting a single eyelid. I knew I could count on him.

But then that fucking noseless bastard forced the Sorting Hat upon Neville’s head and set it alight. I could not bear it. My heart thudding in my chest, I wondered quickly what I should do.

But so many things happened at once, and before I knew it, Neville had ripped off the hat, brandishing the Gryffindor sword, and chopped off Nagini’s head!

Chaos reigned. Voldemort started screaming in fury; giants and centaurs came charging into the fray; Death Eaters broke rank, shouting their surprise as Thestrals and Hippogriffs soared down upon them.

I took the opportunity to throw on my Invisibility Cloak, unseen in all the chaos. No one had seemed to notice that I had disappeared.

Everyone forced their way back into the castle, and I followed, desperate to find Voldemort. I was not afraid of anything anymore. I had faced death. I had faced heartache. I had faced fear itself. Nothing could scare me now.

I watched, invisible, as Ron's mother slam dunked Draco's aunt into the afterlife. It was the most satisfying death I had seen to date.

But it was just about to get oh so much more satisfying.

" _Protego_!” I roared, conjuring a Shield Charm to protect Molly from being killed by Voldemort.

Voldemort stared around, looking utterly baffled.

This was my moment.

I pulled the Invisibility Cloak off and flashed Voldemort my biggest smirk. “Surprise motherfucker!”

Boy, was his face a picture.

“Etta!” “SHE’S ALIVE!” The whole Hall erupted into cheers and yells as the shock of my mind-blowing resurrection sunk in.

But then, as Voldemort and I started to circle one another, the crowd went quiet; anticipation crackling in the air.

“I don’t want anyone else to try to help,” I said loudly to my awestruck audience. “It’s got to be like this. It’s got to be me.”

Ain’t no one gonna steal my thunder.

Like a lion playing with their food, I toyed with Voldemort. I took great pleasure in winding him up, calling him by his Muggle name, _Tommy_. It irked him something rotten.

But then he _really_ blew a gasket when I informed him of who the true owner of the Elder Wand was.

Thanks to Draco gifting me his wand, it was _me_. Suck on that, bitch.

" _Avada Kedavra!”_  
 _“Expelliarmus!”_

And then he was dead. Just like that.

*****

“You were awesome, Etta!”

Ron and Hermione came bounding over to me, respect and admiration shining across their faces as Voldemort lay dead at my feet.

“I know.”

They laughed, hugging me so fiercely, I could scarcely breathe.

But I could not share their joy yet.

“Draco? Have you seen Draco?” I asked, looking around, hoping he had seen me in action.

Ron and Hermione's faces instantly fell as they exchanged awkward glances.

"What?" I asked, my breath catching in my throat. "What's happened?"

“Etta, he’s gone.” Hermione said quietly. "He went back over to _them_."

"B-But that was just because he thought I was dead," I stuttered, panic fluttering in my chest. "Surely once he realised I was alive he came back over to our side?"

Ron and Hermione exchanged yet another glance. My heart started pounding horribly against my ribs.

“Etta, most of the Death Eaters fled after it was clear you were still alive." Ron explained awkwardly as he scratched the back of his neck. "Malfoy included."

“Oh,” was all I could say. I tried to smile but to my horror I felt a lump forming in my throat as tears stung behind my eyes.

What had I expected? I had told him I never loved him. I had freed him before I walked into that forest and chose death over him. Freed him from _me_.

And, as I looked back down at Tom Riddle’s lifeless body, I knew then that it was not just the end of the war.

It was the end of it _all_.


	53. Potter

_**1st September 2017 (Nineteen Years Later)** _

“Where are they?”

Albus was peering at the people surrounding us in the crowded station as we made our way down the platform. The thick vapours from the steam was making it difficult to identify the many faces around us.

“I think that’s them, Al,” I said suddenly.

A group of four people emerged from the mist, standing alongside the very last carriage. Their faces only came into light when Albus and I had drawn right up to them.

“Hi,” Albus said, sounding immensely relieved as Rose, who was already wearing her brand-new Hogwarts robes, beamed at him.

Smiling, I greeted Ron and Hermione with the usual flurry of hugs and kisses.

“Nervous?” Hermione whispered in my ear as she jostled a grizzling Hugo on her hip.

I looked down towards my dark-haired son and my heart fluttered. “Yes, you?”

Hermione nodded as she stared glassy eyed at Rose. We were both, for the first time, waving off our children to Hogwarts.

“Come on,” Ron said jovially, draping his arm over my shoulder and squeezing me to his side, “Let’s get Albus’s things on the train.”

Together we hauled my son's crap onto the Hogwarts Express.

“Seems like only yesterday, eh?” Ron said softly as he noticed me nostalgically glance up and down the train's corridor.

"Just promise me you haven't lumbered poor Rose with corned beef sandwiches," I muttered. "I don't think I've given Al enough money to buy up the entire trolley."

"What's wrong with corned beef?" Ron frowned, looking genuinely confused.

I shook my head, resisting the temptation to roll my eyes as I stepped back off the train onto the bustling platform. 

It was at that moment when a small body collided into mine.

“Woah!” I cried, steadying the boy by the shoulders. I looked down at him only for my breath to catch instantly in my throat. 

From beneath a mop of sleek white-blond hair, a pale face looked up at me, familiar grey eyes widening in alarm.

I felt as though I had stepped back in time.

“Scorpius!” A voice shouted to my left, I glanced up to see a dark-haired woman running towards us.

No. _No, no, no_. Panic blinded me as I looked frantically around, wondering how I could escape.

“I’m so sorry,” the woman gasped apologetically as she skidded to a breathless halt in front of me, pulling the child to her side. “It’s his first day, and he’s so very excited!”

My heart thudded in my chest as I looked at the woman I knew to be called Astoria. I did not know why I was so surprised. I should have half expected this.

“I-It’s okay,” I blustered, wanting to get away from her as quickly as possible.

“Oh!” Astoria said, her eyes widening. ” _You’re_ Henrietta Potter, aren’t you?”

I nodded mutely. I was used to this.

“You were in my sister’s year at school, of course. And my husband’s. You probably don’t remember me, though,”

“Astoria, Daphne’s little sister.” I said quietly, and she beamed, looking so pleased that I had recollected her from our school days.

Except that I hadn’t, not really. There was only one reason I knew of this woman standing before me.

And I wanted to move quickly before I came face to face with that very reason.

“Um, it was nice to see you, Astoria,” I said, already making my leave.

“And you!” she called back just as I was swallowed back into the safety of the crowds. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Hello, Potter.”

I froze, my heart racing at the familiar drawling voice behind me. A voice that I had not heard for a very long time, yet still sounding exactly as I had remembered.

Slowly, I turned, finding myself staring up into a pair of glittering silver-grey eyes. Except for a few laughter lines, his face had not changed at all. He still had the same white-blond hair that flopped lazily over his forehead. He still had the same pearly white skin which always looked hard, but I knew was soft to touch.

I swallowed, trying desperately not to show how thrown I felt. "Draco."

“Long time no see, huh?” he chuckled softly, the twinkle in his eye making me want to cry.

Before I could answer, someone jostled hard into me, knocking me sideways by surprise. Draco flung out a hand, catching my elbow. Our eyes locked and suddenly it felt as though everyone around us had become nothing but a silent blur.

“ _Mum_! MUM!"

My son’s shouts brought me back to my senses. I quickly straightened up as Draco dropped his hand. Albus was waving impatiently over to me as he stood by Ron and Hermione.

“I didn’t know you had a child.” Draco said, an odd expression flitting over his face as he glanced over in their direction.

“Um, yes, it’s Albus's first day at Hogwarts,” I explained hurriedly. “I understand your son is starting today, too?”

He did not answer, instead his eyes remained fixed on Albus, frowning.

“I guess you’re no longer a Potter, then?” he asked, his voice sounding strangled.

“I’m still a Potter, I couldn’t imagine being anything else.”

He looked back at me, his frown gone and his eyes full of warmth. “I couldn’t imagine you being anything else, either.”

A silence fell between us and a feeling of such aching sadness filled my heart. 

“We would have ended up killing each other in the end,” he continued, a smile twitching at his lips. “Especially with your stubborn streak.”

I felt the familiar stirrings of annoyance. ” _My_ stubborn streak?!" I scoffed. "Well _excuse_ me Mr I-Must-Beat-Potter-At-Every-Bloody-Thing!”

Our eyes met and our lips simultaneously tugged into helpless smiles.

“We were rather competitive, weren’t we?” he said, amusement flickering in his eyes as he rubbed his fingers along his jaw.

“Yes, but we loved every minute of it,” I smirked, “deep down.”

The air seemed to still as we exchanged another wistful glance. 

“We sure did, Potter.”

Just then, the train gave a loud whistle. My heart felt suddenly very heavy.

“Take care of yourself, Draco.”

“And you, I mean that. I'll be seeing you, Potter."

He reached his hand towards me, his fingers briefly brushing against mine. I closed my eyes as a soft sigh escaped my lips.

And when I opened them, he was gone.

*****

_**To Be Continued...** _

_Henrietta Potter and the Slytherin Child (Book Two)_

_*****_

**Who is Albus's father? What _did_ happen in the intervening years between the battle of Hogwarts and Nineteen Years Later? Catch up with more Etta and Draco dramas in book two: Henrietta Potter and the Slytherin Child.**


End file.
